


People Will Stare

by YouDontWannaKnow



Series: His. [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Female to Male Newt, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Sad Newt, Trans Character, Trans Newt, Trans romance, newtmas - Freeform, smut maybe?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7318117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouDontWannaKnow/pseuds/YouDontWannaKnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt had a mighty secret.<br/>That was all Thomas knew about him.<br/>People spoke, his classmates theorised, but no one could be sure. Until Thomas ran into him in the hallway.<br/>**<br/>Trans!Newt Newtmas basically, hah. Don't hate me, I suck at summaries XD<br/>P.S. I don't know who would actually read this but it was just an idea that I really wanted to play around with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas stared at the back of the blond's head, analysing him silently. He often did that. Trying to figure out if what the other kids were saying about him were true.

Thomas had never been one to feed into rumour. He'd never liked the negative effect the 'he said, she said' crap had on most of the shanks in this school. But Newt was a special case. The shuck was a mystery.

All Thomas knew about him was that his name was Newt and he sat in front of him in his English Literature class. And also that he skipped gym class a lot. Thomas wouldn't have noticed that had he not skipped gym himself one Friday morning to study, and spied the blond reading in the library. The most he'd ever done was exchange a glance with Newt, and that only lasted a split second because he had a habit of constantly keeping his gaze to the floor. Thomas often wondered why, but a few of the other students took the liberty of making their own claims.

Some people said he'd killed someone back in England but managed to run away before he got caught and now he couldn't bare to look anyone in the eye. Some thought he was a sort of drug-dealer that only ever spoke to clients, some people even attempted to buy stuff from him, but Thomas had heard he'd just given them odd looks and ignored them. Others claimed his parents hit him all the time and his gaze-avoiding was a nervous thing. That would also explain why he'd sometimes come to school with a black-eye, but Thomas suspected that kid Gally who was constantly giving the blond dagger eyes. Minho had a theory that Newt skipped gym because he liked guys and had trouble keeping it in his pants around guys in tank tops. Thomas had dismissed that theory, but maybe it made sense. The shank avoided the changing rooms, even bathrooms, pretty much anywhere where any guy could get away with not being covered up.

Whatever Newt's problem was, it kept him lonely. He didn't have any friends, not even someone he'd glance at more than the others. Thomas felt bad for him, but what could he do?

At that thought, Thomas considered leaning forward and trying to spark a conversation, but last time anyone tried that, Newt did nothing but swallow and stare at various spots on the floor until the shank left him alone.

"Thomas? Any suggestions?"

The brunet broke out of a daze and glanced up at the teacher, Mrs Paige, slightly disorientated. He bit his lip, glanced at Minho next to him for some sort of hint as to what she'd been talking about. Minho gave him no help so he shrugged to the teacher. "No, I, um...I don't know."

"Were you listening?" Paige crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Or were you busy daydreaming about the back of Newt's hair?"

Thomas felt himself turn slightly pink when his classmates laughed, and Newt's eyes flicked to him then back at a spot on his desk. "No, miss, I was just-"

"I can move you if your current spot in this class is too distracting?" The woman said, Thomas was sure she was only doing this to humiliate him. He didn't say anything, just looked at the floor, embarrassed. Ava almost spoke, but was cut off when the school bell sounded violently loud. "Alright, remind me to move you tomorrow."

He would not be doing that. He swung his bag over his shoulder and stood up, glad to finally see the end of the day. Minho stood up too, smirking. "Tommy, I know Newt's blond, shiny locks can be distracting but you shouldn't let a crush screw up your education."

That earned another glance from the blond, who shoved his arms through the strap of his bag and rolled his eyes subtly.

"Shut up, shank." Thomas snapped, rolled his eyes and felt his face heat up slightly. "Did you take notes?"

"Course I did." Minho answered. "What, you think I'm a bad friend? The second I saw you zoning out I started writing it all down."

Thomas let out a short breath of relief. "Thanks Min, you saved my life."

Minho gave him a falsely prideful smile and ripped out a page from his notebook, handed it to Thomas before shoving the book into his bag. "Your welcome."

Thomas grinned at him. "You're still coming over tonight, right? Because I've got some work I need to hand in."

"Alright, I'll meet you outside the car." Minho replied, so Thomas smiled at him, nodded and watched as he left the room.

Thomas headed towards Paige's desk and dropped his paper on there before Paige could notice him and yell at him. He got out before she noticed too, and planned to catch up with Minho but couldn't find him anywhere. He pulled open the paper and read through Min's notes.

Something about a novel, some notes about how boring the class was, some doodles. Great Minho, thanks for all the help-

Thomas heard a grunt somewhere in front of him and looked up from the paper. Newt was up against the wall, bloody, Gally's fist launching forward to slam into his stomach. Thomas dropped the paper in his hands and rushed over. "Hey! Get off him! What's your problem?!"

Gally turned to look at him and scurried off before Thomas could try beating him up.

"Are you okay?" The brunet managed to catch Newt before the blond fell to the floor, he was almost unconscious. Wait.

Thomas could feel something. Something...weird around Newt's chest. "What the... Are you wearing a bra?"

Newt seemed to wake up, his eyes widened. "I..."

"You've got...?" Thomas started, but he cut himself off to let go of the blond completely and step away. "Newt, what-?"

He didn't get to finish before Newt had grabbed his bag and was sprinting away from him. His? Was it  _his_ bag? Or hers? Or theirs? His, right? It was his?

Wait. Was Newt a girl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm an idiot who accidentally deleted the original note for this chapter, so I'm improvising)  
> My first chapters are always pretty sucky, so hopefully it'll get better.  
> Anyway, I am not transgender, so I really don't want to make anyone feel like I'm describing it wrong. I've done a lot of research, but there's probably still going to be some mistakes. But if there are, please let me know and I'll change it.  
> Also, let me know if anything offends anyone. That's the last thing I want to do, and even though I have trans friends, I'm still not sure if some things aren't as trans friendly as I think. So please, please tell me.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you liked it xx


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you listening to me, shuck-face?" Minho said, waving a hand in front of Thomas's eyes. The brunet finally stopped staring at the TV screen, deep in thought, and instead looked at Minho. "I said we should watch this one, then we can fall asleep to the sequel, right? I mean, no one likes the sequel. And we can watch the rest next time."

"Yeah." Thomas agreed, still not really listening to his best friend's blabbering.

"See, this movie is an art-form." Minho decided, shoving a cookie into his mouth whole.

"Wow, I never thought you'd be so into Harry Potter," Thomas muttered, rolling his eyes, deciding there were more important things to think about. He pulled his bed sheets further over him; now he was snapped into reality, he realised his feet were cold.

Minho scoffed, yanking the sheets back. "Teresa likes it, I want to have something to talk to her about. I mean, we haven't talked in a while and I miss her. Do you think she likes me back? It seemed like it, but then she started dating Jeff, which is giving me some mixed signals, you know? I know they broke up, but-"

"What do you know about Newt?" Thomas interrupted, though honestly, he hadn't even registered that Minho had been talking.

Minho shrugged. "What, Newt? I don't know anything. He wears Star Wars t-shirts a lot, so I guess he likes sci-fi? Other than that...I don't know."

Thomas nodded, spied a crumb on his bed and flicked it. Minho narrowed his eyes. "Why'd you ask?"

"I..." Thomas paused. What was he going to say? He didn't even know what this all was. Plus it really was none of his business. But... "I'll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone."

Minho nodded and sat up. "Cross my heart."

Thomas sighed. "I think he, um..." He bit his lip. "I saw him getting beat up by Gally so I stepped in and I helped him and I think...I felt something around here." He used his hands to gesture to his chest area. He watched Minho's forehead crease in confusion. "I think it might've been, like a bra or something."

"A bra?" Minho questioned, still confused. "Have you seen that guy? He's like the boniest shank I've ever met. What would he even put in there?" He paused, then gasped. "Do you think that's where he hides his drug stash?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, but the thought was definitely not something to be dismissed. "It's a possibility. But what if he's actually got, like...girl parts. I mean, it felt like he did. You know...he wasn't...flat."

Minho scoffed. "You think he's a girl?"

"I don't know." Thomas shrugged. "All I know is that I felt something."

"Shuck-face, you're crazy, you know that?" Minho said with a huff of a laugh. "If 'Newtasha' wore a bra, we'd see it, wouldn't we? You probably felt a vest or something."

"A vest? Like my dad used to wear?" Thomas said, almost giggling. "You're ridiculous."

Minho giggled back and threw a biscuit at his head.

** 

It really didn't seem like Newt was going to turn up to school today.

All the signs were pointing to him skipping out.

But finally, he'd walked into English Lit with his usual nervous gaze at the floor, and dropped into his seat with a small, tense glance at Thomas. Thomas, who stared at him as usual. But this time he wasn't staring at the back of his head, but his back, in case there was any sign of whatever it was around his chest. There wasn't.

It was a couple of minutes to the end of the lesson when Thomas noticed Newt drop his hand to his side, holding something out to the brunet. A folded piece of paper. 

Thomas stared at it for a moment, slightly shocked Newt had reached out to him. But then he took the paper from the blond, noting that his fingers brushed against Newt's for a split-second, and opened it up.

**Can I talk to you?**

Was the messy scribble on it. Thomas looked up at Newt, hesitated for a moment before nodding softly. Newt's hand dropped again, more paper. Thomas took it from him.

**4:00, outside your car?**

Thomas wondered if Newt even knew which car was his, but eventually figured the blond must have seen him getting into his vehicle at some point. He nodded, so Newt's gaze flicked back to the front desk.

**

Thomas had forgotten he was supposed to be driving Minho home, but he managed to convince the shank to take the bus, claiming he was late for something or other. It was ten past four, and Newt still hadn't turned up. It was rainy and dismal, Thomas shouldn't be wasting his time and dryness waiting outside his car for someone who wasn't even going to turn up.

He opened up his car door and slipped inside, buckled himself up, then heard a small knock on his window. Newt gave him a nervous glance through the glass, and Thomas pushed open the door to let him get inside. Newt hesitated, but eventually dropped himself into the passenger seat and slammed the door closed. Immediately, Thomas felt like he was giving off a hostile vibe.

"Hey." He said as kindly as possible. Newt only glanced at him.

"Sorry, I'm late." He murmured. "I ran into Gally."

Thomas bit his lip. "Did he do anything to you?"

"He's a bully." Newt shrugged. "It was just some standard name calling."

"Does that happen a lot?" Thomas asked, earning a small peek.

"Sometimes." Was all Newt said, and all he really needed to say. There was a moment of silence, then the blond shuffled in his seat and finally maintained eye-contact for more than half a second. "What exactly happened yesterday?" He started.

Thomas sighed and gripped the steering wheel. "I helped you up, and I might've felt something underwear-like on your chest." He announced. Newt crossed his arms like he was trying to cover himself up. "Look, I won't ask if you don't want to tell me. I just-"

"You can ask." Newt interrupted in a small voice. "I'm not going to lie, I don't want to tell you. But I'm not going to let you make up stories about me."

Thomas paused, wondered if he should argue that he wasn't going to say anything or play along. "Alright, so...do you wear a bra?"

Newt did the gaze-avoiding thing he always did and messed with his fingers, which were neatly placed on his lap. He seemed like he wanted to speak, but couldn't bring himself to answer.

"You know, everyone thinks you're a drug-lord murderer." Thomas prompted. "I'm sure whatever this is isn't half as bad."

He had to wonder if Newt would have smiled had he not been nervously staring at his feet. He sat silent for a while, then finally spoke up. "Do you know what a chest binder is?"

Thomas shrugged, shook his head, so Newt explained. "It's a piece of clothing designed to flatten your chest. I need one, but I can't buy one, so I made one out of bandages. That would have been what you felt."

"Why would you need that?" Thomas asked though he had an idea.

Newt still refused to look him in the eye. He shrugged, and that seemed to be all he wanted to do. Thomas watched him, chewing his lip.

"So, what, you're a girl?" He asked hesitantly, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

"No. I'm a bloke." Newt snapped. "A bloody guy. There's just some complications, okay?"

"Okay." Thomas nodded, watched someone pass the car before speaking up again.

"I still don't really get it." He said quietly; he felt awkward asking for more explanation.

Newt stared out the window, probably trying to avoid looking at Thomas. "It's called 'transgender'."

Thomas bit his lip. "I've heard of that. What does it mean?"

"I don't like using the cliche to explain it but basically, it means I'm a bloke, but I'm stuck in a girl's body," Newt said as he analysed the dashboard. Thomas nodded, his mind almost hurting from all the questions he wanted to ask. He decided not to ask anything too heavy, he didn't want to upset the guy.

"Doesn't your chest hurt?" He asked hesitantly. "My friend Teresa's always complaining about her...um, bandaging yourself doesn't sound like a healthy solution."

"It's not," Newt replied quietly. "But I'm stuck. I can't get a binder without my parents, and I don't know what else to-"

"Your parents don't know?" Thomas interrupted. Newt nodded.

"They know." He said. "But they both refuse to use the right pronouns or even acknowledge that I ever came out to them. They use the right name, though, but probably because I stopped answering to my old one. Any time I bring up that I'm trans or ask them for anything that'll help me, they just get uncomfortable and refuse."

Thomas paused. "You got to pick your own name and you chose Newt?"

For a split-second, he thought he'd hurt the blond's feelings, but then his lips crawled into a small smile and he laughed slightly. "I was fifteen and going through a science phase, I liked Isaac Newton."

"So why didn't you choose Isaac?" Thomas giggled back, enjoying the sight of the blond's smile. Newt shrugged, bit his lip to stifle an obvious grin.

"I don't know." He said with a short laugh. "I kinda like Newt, though. It has character."

Thomas hummed in agreement, glad to actually see Newt smiling for once. "So what's your real name?"

Newt's smile fell somewhat. He shuffled in his seat, avoiding Thomas's gaze again.

"Oh." The brunet bit his lip. "Am I not supposed to ask that?"

"Not really." Newt chuckled nervously. "But it's okay, you didn't know. Honestly, I've kind of blocked that name out of my head. I mean, my parents say it sometimes, you know, when I'm in trouble, but apart from that, I try to forget it."

Thomas nodded, let himself feel guilty.

"I should go." Newt decided, reaching out for the door-handle. He pushed it open and stepped one foot out before turning to the brunet. "Thanks for being so nice about this, Tommy. Most people just give me weird looks. Don't tell anyone, though, yeah? It's not that I'm ashamed, I just already have a target on my back."

"I won't tell anyone." Thomas insisted.

Newt smirked slightly. "I guess now I can go back to being a drug-lord murderer knowing someone around here's friendly."

"Anytime," Thomas smiled as sweetly as possible, trying to make himself seem approachable. Newt grinned at him and climbed out of the car, and Thomas noticed how heavily it was raining.

"Um, are you walking? Cause I'll drive you home if you want?" He offered, but Newt shook his head.

"No thanks. My dad's picking me up." He said, then he stood up and closed the door, smiling at Thomas through the window.

"See you tomorrow!" Thomas yelled though he doubted Newt could hear him since the blond was already walking away. He turned towards the steering wheel and started the car, repeating a single word to himself so he wouldn't forget it. "Binder."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> So I've already got a few ideas for the end of this fic (not that it's going to be soon), but the in between parts are still sort of hazy, so if there's any scene that could fit into this story anywhere, I'm taking suggestions.  
> As usual, the last thing I want to do is offend anyone, so if there is anything, please let me know.  
> Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading xx


	3. Chapter 3

It was twenty-past-three when Thomas finally consciously noticed the poster strung up in every nook and cranny of his school. **Prom Night! 9th May, 7:00pm, don't forget to buy your tickets!**

"A prom?" Minho had sounded skeptical when he first saw the poster pinned to the wall outside the school.

"A prom." Thomas was just as unsure. "A prom with tickets and suits and ties and dresses and ties."

"Hmm, you already said ties." Minho pointed out, deep in thought as he stared at the controversial poster. He paused, his eyes analysing every part of the colourful paper. "Are you going?"

"I might," Thomas replied, still not completely sure what to think. This had been the first prom Thomas's high school would have ever held, and previously, Thomas had enjoyed knowing his school wasn't into those crappy cliches. But now? "Are you going to ask someone?"

"Teresa, obviously." Was Minho's response. "You?"

"Brenda, probably?" Thomas answered nonchalantly, unsure how accurate that was. He'd never had to wonder who he'd ask to a shuck prom before, so no one immediately sprung to mind. Well, someone sprung to mind, but Thomas decided he probably wasn't going. "I don't know."

Minho nodded slowly. "Yeah. Brenda's good- a good choice."

"Yeah." Thomas agreed. He looked at Minho, who looked back, still unsure what to think. "We're going to have to buy suits."

"Screw that. I'm not wearing a shuck suit." Minho replied; he sounded offended to some extent.

Thomas smirked. "You're a disgrace to your father and his well-made suits."

He was cut off when someone shoved past Minho, clearly accidentally, and spun around quickly. "Sorry, Brenda pushed- Oh."

Thomas rolled his eyes at the blushing that ensued, from both Teresa and Minho.

"Hey, T." The brunet said casually, nudging Minho with his elbow.

"Yeah. Yes, hey, Teresa." The bloke smiled nervously.

"Hi, Min. A-And Tom. Hi, Tom." Teresa replied with a twitchy grin.

"Hey, Thomas." Smiled Brenda from her friend's side. The brunet replied with a polite smile. "So, uh, have you heard about that prom thing?"

"Yeah, sounds like fun," Minho answered before he could. "Have you thought about who you want to go with?" He asked Teresa.

"I don't know," Teresa replied with a small blush like she knew what was coming. Thomas rolled his eyes at Minho's anxious smile, and his gaze caught on someone sitting on the school wall, cross-legged with his phone against his ear. He stared at Newt for a moment, chewed his lip, then took a step towards him.

"Be back in a minute." He mumbled as he sauntered over to the blond with a kind smile.

"...not talk about it?" He overheard as he got closer. "It's been a long day, the last thing I want to do is- ... No, I know that. I just-"

He stopped when Thomas pushed himself to sit opposite the blond and copied his cross-legged stance. "Hey." He said softly.

Newt twitched a small smile in response but focused on his phone call. "No. It's a rumour, it's not real."

Thomas took a moment to assess the blond's situation. He had a notebook in front of him, which Thomas had often noticed him scribble in during class. He had a hand in his hair, tugging every now and again. His hood was on because it was raining slightly, and between his fingers was a blue pen. Thomas half-wanted to read whatever was in the notebook, but decided that was pretty personal, even though it was probably just class notes.

"I don't know where you even heard that from." Newt continued. "No, mum, listen. I'm not a drug-dealer. It's just some stupid rumour the bastards at school made up."

Thomas tilted his head in question but ended up trying to answer said question in his head. He'd never thought about the way the stories the kids made up for fun affected Newt's actual life. He just assumed the blond knew nothing of them. But kids spoke to parents, and parents spoke to other parents, so how could his mother not have heard something?

"I promise." Newt insisted. There was a short pause before a curt mutter. "Alright, great. Bye."

He dropped the phone into his lap and let out a long sigh, composing himself, before forcing himself to smile. "Hey, Tommy. Sorry about that, my mum's gone nutso."

"What happened?" Thomas asked. Newt rolled his eyes as he closed his notebook.

"She got a call from our concerned Head Master about me supplying drugs to my classmates." He said with a sarcastic laugh. "But anyway, how's life a la Thomas?"

"Good," Thomas answered with a sympathetic smile. "Did you hear about the prom?"

Newt simpered. "It's sort of hard to avoid with the posters all over the place."

"Are you thinking of going?" Thomas asked hopefully, his face turning pink to his ears. "I mean, I was going to skip it; it's too 'teen high school movie' to me. But if you're going...?"

"I don't think so," Newt replied with an apologetic smile. "Anytime my mum gets wind of any sort of formal party, she takes me to every bloody dress shop in town. It genuinely makes me want to crawl out of my skin."

Thomas felt slightly disappointed, but what could he do? "That sucks. But Minho's dad owns a tailor shop. I can get him to give you a discount if you want to get a suit?"

Newt narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know." Thomas shrugged, pink again. "I thought since we're friends now and everything, you'd want to come with me?"

"Friends? We've only spoken, like, twice-" Newt began, but then he paused. "With you? Or _with_ you?"

Thomas laughed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean, are you offering to drive me, or, by default, asking me to dance with you?" Newt explained, with one or two questionable hand gestures.

Thomas chuckled, but the thought made him think of the person Minho would have expected him to be dancing with, Brenda. He glanced over at his friends, who were all staring at him like he'd just picked up a knife and stabbed every person that had passed him. Thomas doubted they could hear his conversation, but simply sitting next to Newt must have been out of character to them.

"Right. What would professional cool-kid Minho say if you went to prom with the school freak? Sorry, stupid assumption." Newt muttered, rolling his eyes, turning slightly red. Thomas focused back on the blond and shook his head.

"No, no, I was asking you to dance." He explained. "With me. At the prom."

Newt simpered at the floor. "Well, that sounds like fun. But I'm still going to have to decline."

Thomas's smile fell. "What, why?"

Newt looked up at him and shrugged with half a frown. "My parents hear I've got a boyfriend, there'll hit me with the 'you're just a really butch straight girl' speech again. And anyway, you'll probably be hanging out with Minho all night, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me."

Thomas hesitated. "I never said 'boyfriend'."

Newt chewed the inside of his cheek and shrugged again. "I-I mean, I know, just- I figured it was part of the package. Prom dates eventually turn into high school sweethearts, right?"

He seemed embarrassed, but Thomas agreed. "Yeah, I've always sort of assumed that too."

"Is that why you asked me?" Newt questioned, with a smirk. Thomas bit his lip, blushed in an answer.

"Hey, Thomas!" Minho yelled from the group. When the brunet turned to look at him, he furrowed his eyebrows. "What the hell?"

Thomas sighed, rolled his eyes. Newt threw his gaze at the floor and gave the brunet a sad smile. "If you are asking me out, we may as well both commit a double suicide and end this bloody Romeo and Juliet story now."

"Romeo and Juliet?" Thomas questioned with a smirk. "Should I be expecting you to start talking like 'where for art thou, Romeo'?"

"No way. I'm Romeo." Newt grinned. "You get to be the pretty lady."

Thomas smirked at him. "I guess I could live with that."

Newt huffed a sad laugh. "It's not as easy as it sounds."

The brunet gave him a sympathetic smile. "You know, I can't imagine you as a girl. At all."

"Me either," Newt replied, looking at the floor.

The same second he'd finished his sentence, a car parked right next to the two. Thomas didn't think to wonder about it, but Newt stared at it and sighed. Thomas gave him a questioning look, but he didn't have time to answer before the car's driver seat door popped open, and a man got out. The man had light brown hair and a warm smile, Thomas didn't have to wonder to know this guy had to be Newt's father.

"Hey, kiddo, who's your friend?" He asked the blond, who massaged the back of his neck awkwardly. Thomas gave him a polite smile as he was introduced.

"This is Thomas," Newt mumbled with his signature gaze-avoiding move. "He sits behind me in English."

The man held out his hand. "Oh, nice to meet you. Newt doesn't talk about school much."

Thomas noticed the blond wince, but the brunet still shook his father's hand politely. The man nodded to his son. "Is she doing okay? You know, as parents, we hear things."

"He's doing fine, sir." Thomas replied, shuffling slightly at the misuse of 'she'. Newt stuffed his phone in his pocket, picked up his notebook and jumped off the wall.

"C'mon, dad, let's go." He insisted, but the man stayed put.

"Don't be rude. How about we invite your friend over for dinner?" He suggested. "Thomas, are you free tonight?"

The brunet used a stutter to glance at Newt, who was still staring at the floor. "Dinner? At your house?" Thomas questioned, noting how awkward that would be as a first...date? Hangout session?

"Yeah, why not?" Newt's father smiled. "You're the first of Newt's friends we've actually met, it'd be nice to get to know you better."

Thomas bit his lip, turning the idea over in his mind. "Okay, sure." He decided hesitantly as he hopped off the wall. "I just need to give Minho my car keys. Back in a sec."

He turned to his friends and rushed over, pulling his keys out of his back pocket. When he reached them, he shoved the keys into Minho's hand. "I'll come pick my car up later, yeah?"

Minho stared at him, his eyes narrowed. "Uh, Thomas, what the hell? Did you forget to tell me you're BFF's with Newt, _the_ most mysterious kid in the whole shuck school?"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "It's not a big deal. It's not like any of those stupid rumours you made up about him are true."

"What, and now you're going to let him drive you home?" Minho questioned with furrowed eyebrows. Thomas shrugged and rolled his eyes. After a second, Minho's jaw slowly fell open and his eyes widened. "You like him, don't you?"

"What?" Brenda piped, suddenly interested.

"That's insane." Thomas pointed out. "I've only spoken to him once or twice. I mean, he's cool but-"

" _He's cool_ _but_?" Minho said with a raised eyebrow. "You're totally in love with him."

"Shut up," Thomas muttered, felt his cheeks heat up and turn rosy. "Now I'm going to hang out with my only nice friend."

He turned around and was about to take a step forward when Brenda stopped him.

"Wait." She called out. Thomas spun back around, expectant. "You like Newt?" She asked with disappointment and sadness in her eyes.

"Maybe." Thomas shrugged, simpered. "I mean, no offence but it's not really any of your business."

She nodded at the floor, and Thomas felt bad, even though he didn't really get why it was a problem. He was right, it was nothing to do with her.

"See you later." She sighed, and Thomas forced a half-smile at her before turning back to Newt and hurrying over to the car to get inside. He climbed into the back, where Newt had buckled himself up, then smiled at the blond.

"You got everything?" Newt's dad asked, gaining a nod from the boys before starting up the engine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, huh? I know this is where I'm supposed to add some reason for it, but honestly there isn't one. I had a lot of ideas for this chapter, but every time I wrote a version of the chapter, I'd always feel like it wasn't right, so I'd go back and re-write the whole thing. I'm not entirely happy with this version either, but it was my favourite of the few that I wrote so I thought I'd just put it up before I change my mind and end up losing faith in this story line XD  
> I want to thank anyone who reads this story for simply reading the crappy summary and thinking 'that sounds like it might not suck'. It's a nice feeling.  
> As usual, if anything, /anything/, offends you, please let me know so I can change it right away.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, hopefully, it won't take as long to be updated next time XD  
> Thanks for reading xx


	4. Chapter 4

Thomas hadn't known what to expect of Newt's house, much less his room. The house was far more homely than Thomas had imagined. He'd slightly assumed Newt would live in the bad part of town, thanks to all those damn rumours, but he didn't live too far from Minho. In the hallway, was a shoe rack riddled with muddy and ragged sneakers and boots, with small trinkets lacing the top. There was a faint but welcoming smell of cooking in the air. There was a warm fireplace blazing in the living room, and it was a real one, not one of those crappy gas ones that Thomas had and hated. The place seemed so warm and cosy, Thomas felt he had no choice but to do as he was told when Newt's father suggested he make himself at home.

Another thing Thomas noted about the place, was baby pictures strung up all over the place. Of Newt, clearly. But they weren't  _Newt_. They were a little girl. Riddled in pink, pretty dresses, like the ones Teresa used to wear. And even when it wasn't a dress, it was something no guy could get away with wearing without being scrutinised by stereotypes. And the more recent the photos became, the more unhappy Newt seemed. Thomas frowned when he noticed that, until he found the most recent photo. A photo of someone's, probably a family friend's wedding. Newt had a smirk, his hair was moderately shorter than before, and he was wearing a shirt and tie. It was his parents' turn to look unhappy, even though they both had fake smiles, it was obvious. But Newt was damn ecstatic, clearly. And for some reason, that etched a proud grin on Thomas's face.

"This being a British household," Newt piped from the doorway; he had been called into the kitchen by his mother the moment he'd entered the house, leaving Thomas to examine the living room. "It'd be treason if I didn't offer you a cuppa. D'you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Two sugars." Thomas smiled back from his spot in front of the fireplace, where he'd been staring at the pictures on the mantel for the past few minutes. Newt nodded and was about to close the door when his face filled with realisation.

"Crap. I forgot about those bloody pictures." He winced. Thomas shrugged and glanced at the closest picture to him before replying.

"It's fine." He smiled. "But I do have to say, I'm disappointed in your fashion sense. I mean, a pink dress with green shoes? I thought you'd be better with that kind of stuff."

"Shut up," Newt muttered, his face turning pink, a half-frown half-smile lining his lips. He seemed to forget about Thomas's request for tea because he walked over and analysed the pictures next to the brunet. "You know, my mum put these up all over the house when I came out. She wanted to remind me that I've always been her-" his face scrunched in disgust. "Special little girl."

Thomas gave him a sad smile. Newt stared at him for a moment, before he sighed and stepped back. "Anyway, tea."

He smiled awkwardly and disappeared back through the door, so Thomas let out a long breath and decided he'd just wait on the couch.

It was only a few seconds after he sat down, that the door swung back open and a woman stepped through it with a disbelieving beam. Thomas stood up, suddenly felt like he had to. "Hi. I'm Thomas."

He extended a hand and forced a smile when the woman's warm palm met his. "I'm Julia, Newt's mother."

She stared at him for a moment with her incredulous smile, before shaking her head. "Sorry, Newt never talks about her friends much."

"Um, yeah," Thomas said lamely, unsure of what else to say. The woman nodded and must have sensed the awkwardness whittling it's way into the conversation.

"Right, well, dinner's in ten minutes." She announced.

"Oh no." A voice called from the door, even though whoever it was, was blocked by the woman, Thomas knew it was Newt. He hurried forward, careful not to spill from the two mugs in his hands, and groaned loudly, eyeing his mother with suspicion. "C'mon, Tommy, let's go upstairs where you can't be harassed by my parents."

Thomas nodded silently, watching the blond's mother roll her eyes. "I just want to get to know your friend."

Newt ignored her and nodded his head towards Thomas, then the door. The brunet smiled at the woman, then followed the blond through the doorway to the staircase.

Thomas hadn't known what to expect Newt's room to look like at all. He'd had several images in his head, but they were all shot down when Thomas entered the room and realised it was just like any other teenage boy's room. It was messy, it was personalised, and Thomas liked it already. There were posters all over the place of bands, TV shows, movies, books, among various other topics. For example the giant gay pride flag above his bed, which, when Thomas was caught staring at it, Newt described as a way of rubbing his unavoidable sexuality into his denying parents' faces. Thomas had grinned at him and turned to examine his cluttered desk. What stood out most to him was a jar full of various pennies and one-dollar bills, which was sitting innocently next to Thomas's full cup of tea.

"What're you saving up for?" He asked the blond, who'd comfortably climbed onto his bed and was sipping his own tea.

"Pride. There's a festival a few towns over, and I'm saving up for a train ticket." Newt answered simply. "I used to have enough, but my mum mistook it for rainy-day savings and used it all to pay the window cleaner."

Thomas smiled. "That sounds like fun, I'll go with you."

"You don't want to do that." Newt shook his head, between swallows of his tea.

"No, I do. It sounds like a nice day out." Thomas argued, but the blond corrected him.

"No, you really don't. It's the same day as that prom thing." He said. "If I go, I won't be able to get back in time."

Thomas paused, thought it through, then shrugged. "I wasn't planning on going anyway, remember? I'll come with you. Plus I can drive you, so you can use your train money for something else."

Newt grinned at him as he sipped his tea, and before he could respond verbally, a thought popped into Thomas's head. "Hey, maybe Minho would enjoy something like that."

The blond almost choked on his drink, his face squinted. "No way. That Minho bloke hates me."

"What? That's ridiculous." Thomas replied, slightly shocked. "You and Minho haven't even spoken."

Newt sighed and tutted. "Tommy, he's the stereotypical jock from the crappy teen romance movie. I mean, he's even on the track team. And I'm the guy who spends his spare time in the library, never speaking to anyone. We're natural enemies."

"That's not true-" Thomas began, but he couldn't deny that Newt was right to an extent. Minho was the guy everyone loved; the guys wanted to be him and the girls wanted to be with him. And then Newt was the guy everyone avoided; they'd glare at him simply because he'd glanced at them.

"Oh, come off it, Tommy." The blond replied with a small smirk. "I guess maybe if you're one of them, you don't really see the social hierarchy."

"You think I'm one of them?" Thomas asked. Newt laughed shortly.

"Definitely." He smiled. "I'm bringing you down, Tommy. You should run away from me before you inherit the title of social reject."

Thomas grinned and sat next to him on the bed, picking up his cup from the bedside table as he did so. Newt smirked back at him and drank, but a realisation seemed to dawn on him mid-sip. "Why would Minho be interested in a pride festival?"

"He's one of those guys who has opinions about everything. Anything he can have a strong opinion about, he has it." Thomas said with a short shrug. "He's a very big believer in equality. I figured he'd want to go to support the ACDC community or whatever it's called."

Newt spluttered a laugh, almost shooting his tea out of his mouth spit-take style. "Did you just compare the rock band AC/DC to the LGBT community?"

Thomas bit his lip. "Is that what it's called?"

Newt's giggling was almost violent, he threw his head back and shook his head in hilarity and disbelief. "You're-," he giggled, "you're lucky you've got a pretty face, Thomas."

He laughed again, and Thomas felt his lips curl into a grin, and a short chuckle bubbled into a happy laugh, because, hey, Newt's giggle was contagious. "I knew what it was, I just forgot."

"Sure, you keep telling yourself that." The blond chuckled, his lips staying in a smirk long after his laughter had died down.

Thomas smiled back at him. "So, can Minho come with us?"

Newt's smirk fell only slightly, in a sigh. "It's not my place to say he can't go."

"Thanks," Thomas grinned at him, finally taking a sip of his now slightly cool tea. After a moment of comfortable silence, he gasped, excited. "We could make it his first date with Teresa."

"What?" Newt asked with furrowed eyebrows. "Who the hell's Teresa?"

"Brunette?" Thomas offered. "Blue eyes? Has the ability to turn Minho red from head to toe? Sits near the front in English lit?"

Newt cocked his head, thought for a moment, but he nodded slowly like he had a vague idea. "Minho likes her?"

Thomas scoffed. "Are you serious?"

Newt grinned softly and raised his shoulders with innocent eyes. Thomas smiled at him.

"Thomas! Newt!"

"Tea time." Smiled the blond as he set his mug down and jumped up from his place on the bed. Thomas stood up too and raced after him to get downstairs.

The kitchen was a small room, with a table squeezed in at the end, that just about had enough room to fit six people. Newt sat opposite his father, who was enjoying a read of an instruction manual of some sort of machinery. Newt must have noticed Thomas's confusion - instruction manuals weren't exactly typical reading material. "Dad's a mechanic."

"Oh." Was all Thomas could think of to say as he plonked himself down next to the blond. "That sounds fun."

"It isn't." Newt's father replied without looking up from his manual. Thomas smiled at him, figuring it was supposed to be a joke.

"And my mum's a nurse," Newt added as the woman brought a pan of what looked like stew from the kitchen. She set it down in the middle of the table and smiled at Thomas, ordering for him to help himself. He did as he was told and shovelled some of the food from the pan. When Newt did the same with some of the other foods, the brunet copied him, and soon everyone had tucked in.

It was only a few minutes before Newt's parents decided the comfortable silence wasn't appropriate for dinner time. "So, Thomas, what do your parents do?" Asked Julia.

Thomas shrugged as he swallowed the delicious piece of beef in his mouth. "Uh, my mum's a caregiver for an eleven-year-old kid named Chuck."

"Oh, that's interesting," Julia smiled politely. "I did volunteer work looking after people with disabilities in college."

"Yeah, she loves it," Thomas grinned, smiled at the blond beside him as a silent message that he liked his parents already. Newt didn't seem to notice, so he took a drink from the juice his mother had set down next to him at the beginning of the meal.

"What about your dad?" The blond's father asked. Thomas noticed Newt glance at him - he must know the answer to that question.

Thomas shuffled in his seat, and Newt must have noticed his discomfort because he answered for him in a whisper. "Dad, he's in the military."

"Oh." The man paused, his eyes showing guilt. "Sorry, I didn't know."

Thomas shook his head with a forced smile. "No, it's fine. My mum's done a mighty good job raising me on her own so I don't miss him much."

Newt nodded optimistically and gave the brunet a comfortable smile, which, Thomas noticed, earned an exchange of hopeful glances from his parents.

"So, Thomas," Julia began with a fresh smile, as if she was trying to change the subject. "How did you and Newt come to be friends? Her teachers have told us repeatedly that she's not very social."

"Mum, it's  _he_." Newt corrected quietly, turning slightly red from embarrassment and glaring at the food on his plate like it had grown a hand and had just flipped him off.

The woman glowered, her eyes rolling. "Stop it, you're going to scare him off."

Newt scratched the back of his neck nervously, keeping his eyes low to avoid eye-contact. "Mum, he's not- I mean...That's not..."

Thomas, who was sure Julia was talking about him, desperately tried not to interject; this wasn't his argument to butt into. The key word was  _tried_. "Actually, I know Newt as _he_ anyway, so it's not a problem."

Julia scowled at him. "It is a problem, Thomas. She can't just decide she wants to be a boy all of a sudden."

Thomas cleared his throat. "With all due respect, I don't think it was a decision."

"Um, Tommy, best not to start this debate again," Newt muttered, avoiding every eye but the brunet's. Thomas sighed, deeply wishing there was more he could do for him, but what could he do? He barely knew the guy. He nodded, silently went back to eating.

"Right, sorry." Newt's mother nodded too. "So, tell me more about yourself, Thomas."

The rest of the meal went relatively smoothly, despite the use of the wrong pronouns, not to mention the strange criss-cross feeling Thomas got from Newt's parents. It seemed as if his mother was needling into every pore of his personality, but his father just wanted to know the important details. Thomas remained as polite and ready to answer as possible, trying desperately to look past the blatantly transphobic comments his friend's parents made repeatedly. Newt had kept himself quiet, despite his white knuckles from gripping the edge of his chair, or his cutlery. He only spoke when anyone spoke to him, and judging by his parents' lacklustre reaction, Thomas guessed that wasn't so out-of-the-ordinary. It was still nice for Thomas to see Newt in his comfortable space - in school, he'd always seemed hostile. But at home, he seemed...at home.

The evening felt like it only lasted an hour, though the sky was darkening when Julia casually noticed the time and suggested that Newt should show Thomas out soon, so neither of them would have a late night's sleep for school tomorrow. Thomas agreed and let Newt guide him to the front door with a small smile, being sure to shut the kitchen door so they could say their farewells in private.

"So this is the part where I ask if you need a lift home with no intention of actually giving you one," Newt announced with a sly grin. Thomas nodded and smirked at him.

"Mhm, and this is the part where I gratefully thank you for the wonderful evening." He said. Newt hummed in agreement and left a long silence in the air for a moment.

"Tommy, thanks for standing up for me earlier." He said with a real smile. "I'm not usually the guy who has anyone on his team. So, just...thanks."

Thomas laughed softly and smiled back at him. "I might have to tape over your mouth before you get too mushy."

"Yeah, trust me, that's the last thing I want," Newt replied. "But this has been fun."

"It has." Thomas agreed. Newt nodded awkwardly, his gaze darting to his feet. Thomas looked at the muddy welcome mat his socked feet were standing on to have something to do. It felt awkward to leave the night there, hanging in the doorway with all the things the brunet wanted to say but couldn't get out of his mouth.

"So, um, I should be going." He forced out, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

Newt looked up at him, swallowing. "Yeah. See ya tomorrow."

Thomas smiled lamely and was about to turn around when Newt reached forward and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back slightly. Thomas just about got an idea of what was happening before Newt's soft lips met his chapped ones. It barely lasted a second, it was more of a peck than a kiss, but that was all it took for Thomas's stomach to melt into jelly, and for his face to turn completely pink. Newt was blushing too, pulled back just enough for it to not technically count as kissing anymore.

Thomas gulped, chewed his lip nervously. What was he even supposed to say after that? "Okay..." he began nervously.

"Sorry, I..." Newt started too, but his lips curled into a small smirk before he continued. "It sort of felt like the part where we're supposed to kiss."

Thomas felt his own mouth tug at a smile, which eventually turned into a gentle giggle. Newt laughed with him for a moment before sighing happily and kissing the brunet on the cheek this time. When he pulled back, he beamed at Thomas and stepped back into the warmth of his home's doorway. "See you tomorrow, Tommy."

"Yes, tomorrow." The brunet chuckled, momentarily forgetting he was supposed to be leaving, but how could he leave after  _that_? He backed away, though, not bothering to turn around because Newt's smug and slightly flustered grin wasn't something he particularly wanted to miss.

"Hey," The blond called after him. "When you're telling all your friends about this, remember to make it sound like you stuck your tongue down my throat, yeah? Earn yourself some cool kid points."

Thomas could only nod in his beaming state, a state which he'd only found himself in a few times before. Newt stared at him for a second, then waved and shut the door. Thomas bit his lip, finally acknowledging the fact that his heart was bursting out of his chest. And that was barely a kiss.

It took a while to explain to Minho why he showed up at his house grinning like a mad-man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ACTUALLY MAKING AN EFFORT NOW! Not that I wasn't before, of course, but I finally figured out why I was unhappy with the way I was writing and I fixed it!  
> Anyway, hope you liked this chapter, which honestly took me less time to write than any of the other chapters XD Please let me know if there's anything in here that offended you, even slightly, and I'll change it.  
> Thanks for reading, see ya next time.


	5. Chapter 5

"Minho, give it back!" Thomas yelled as he sped up to catch up with the idiot who'd just stolen his phone. It was a chilly Saturday in the local park, the one Thomas and friends went to every weekend, and the brunet had been having a good day until he absentmindedly placed his phone on the picnic table they'd all been sat on.

"Hmm, let's see who we've got here," Minho smirked, spinning around, his scarf waving behind him, and walking backwards, unlocking the phone as he did so. Thomas growled at him and reached for the device, but Minho swiped it away.

"Your mother? Yes, I'm sure she'd love to get a text from you," Minho grinned, reading whatever was on the screen. "What shall we tell her?"

"Minho, don't you dare!" Thomas warned as he reached for the phone again, to no avail.

Minho 'thought' for a moment, then grinned evilly. "Oops, looks like you accidentally sent a text meant for Brenda." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning an eye-roll from Thomas and a splutter from the brunette sitting on the picnic bench next to the two of them.

"What? That's stupid." Brenda mumbled with a red face, her eyes suddenly taking an interest in a small stain on the table. "I mean, Tom wouldn't do that..."

"Wow, Thomas, I had no idea you were so dirty." Minho winked as he typed into the phone. His smug look sent a groan from Thomas's lips.

"Min, I'll be grounded for years. And so will you if I tell my mum you sent it." Thomas insisted. Minho's fingers stilled, he sighed.

"No, no, you're right." He said. "Your mother loves me, I wouldn't want to damage that."

Thomas gave him a thankful look and held out his hand to receive the phone, but Minho threw the device over to the picnic table. "T, catch!"

Teresa held out her hands and did as she was told without a second thought, grinning just as evilly as Minho had been. She read through the text, laughing with wide eyes. "Minho, geez. This is some fifty shades crap, shank."

At that, Thomas was climbing over the picnic bench to reach the phone, but it was already safely tucked into Brenda's hand. By the time he'd reached her, she'd already thrown it back to Minho, who smirked.

"Min, don't!" Thomas yelled as he tackled his friend to the ground, his beanie falling onto Minho's stomach and the phone bouncing across the frozen grass floor. Thomas watched it go, vaguely aware he was laying on top of his best friend.

Minho grinned and forcefully spun them around so he was on top. "Race ya."

He scrambled to his feet and began running, barely looking back to notice that Thomas was hot on his heels, being slapped in the face by the fabric around Minho's neck. In the time that the two had been distracted by each other, the phone had disappeared into the short blades of grass, so Thomas stopped to look around. Minho was still blindly running in the direction the device had been heading.

It took a few seconds, but Thomas finally saw the thing next to one of the trees surrounding them, only a few metres away. He headed towards it, not bothering to rush because Minho had only just figured out that running was going to do nothing.

Just before he reached it, a hand extended from behind the tree and picked it up, and Thomas's teeth immediately clamped over his lip. He started running now, desperate to get to the phone before Anonymous could read whatever Minho had typed.

Too late.

All Thomas saw was a head of yellow hair staring down at the phone, but that was all he needed to see before he snatched the device back and deleted whatever was written. Halfway through staring at the words disappearing, he felt eyes staring at him and looked down at Anonymous, finding a pair of sunglasses and a familiar face. Newt had a book on his lap and was sitting against the tree, wearing a red scarf and black fingerless gloves to keep the cold weather out. The words 'fancy seeing you here' seemed to fit with this situation.

"It was Minho," Thomas explained, his face heating up. What he could see of Newt's eyebrows furrowed.

"Eh?" He asked. "What was Minho?"

Thomas figured the blond hadn't read the message, so let out a breath of relief. "Nothing, never mind."

Newt smiled politely at him. "I didn't see you in school yesterday. I was starting to think you were avoiding me. Regrettin' that kiss?"

"Course not. No, I had a headache so I took the day off," Thomas explained. Newt's lips curled into a smirk.

"You little layabout, you." He teased. Thomas stared at him and considered pretending he knew what that meant, but eventually let it go.

"What's with the shades? I mean, it's not exactly summer." He asked, noting that Newt had never seemed the type to wear sunglasses, even if it was snow-weather. The blond winced.

"I got in a fight yesterday." He said with a sad sigh. "I got a black-eye, so I figured I'd cover it up instead of getting pity looks."

Thomas bit his lip. "Can I see?"

Newt nodded and pushed the specs to rest on his hair, revealing dark blue flesh around his left eye. It wasn't the worst black-eye Thomas had seen on him, but it wasn't great that he had one in the first place.

Suddenly, Thomas felt a hand stuff itself into his pocket, then a tantalising "Got it!"

Thomas rolled his eyes and sighed. "Minho, don't be an idiot. Give me my phone back."

Minho paused and raised an eyebrow. "Wow, what's made you so eager to play along-?"

He looked down at Newt, who'd resorted to his old habit of finding anywhere to look but people. He'd also pulled his shades back over his eyes, prompting a confused look from Minho, which the both of them ignored. Thomas sighed again and extended his hand. "C'mon, Newt, there's a table over there that's probably far comfier than the floor."

Minho gazed at his hand like it was clenched around a gun and Thomas had just asked the blond to murder him. "Are you serious?" He whispered.

"Min, he's my friend." Thomas insisted, smiling slightly when he felt Newt's gloved palm meet his bare one. He pulled the blond up and helped him get to his feet. Newt kept his head low, but Thomas was glad he had taken him up on his offer anyway.

"Friends, right. That's why you're holding hands?" Minho murmured. Thomas felt his eyes widen and glanced down at his and Newt's intertwined fingers. The blond made no move to let go, so nor did a grinning, slightly nervous and very pink Thomas.

"He better not be invited to movie night." Minho scowled and headed back to the table, so Thomas followed him, pulling Newt next to him.

"I feel awkward." The blond whispered. "I mean, you're the only one who wants me around. And it's not like I'm used to sitting at the popular table."

Thomas hesitantly kissed the blond's cheek and passed his thumb over his knuckles. "I don't buy your nervous act, shank."

Newt grinned at his feet and squeezed Thomas's hand. "Wow, hand-holding. We're almost a disgusting pretentious couple."

"Considering we've only kissed once, and it was two days ago, _almost_ should probably be the key-word." Thomas agreed with a smirk.

"S'pose. Unless you want to make-out against that tree over there and make passer-bys physically ill?" Newt grinned.

"Yeah, I think that would do it." Thomas kept his smirk strong as he pulled the blond over to the picnic table and sat next to Teresa. Newt awkwardly shoved himself into the empty space at the end of the bench and stared at the dark red paint, his fingers twitching around Thomas's palm under the table.

"Um..." Teresa began in a whisper. She glanced around the table at Brenda and Minho, who both shrugged at her. "Hi, Newt."

Newt twitched a polite smile and Thomas could feel his leg bouncing up and down anxiously under the table.

"What's he doing here?" Brenda asked blatantly, openly staring at the blond. Thomas glared at her in warning.

"I bet this is about the bra thing," Minho whispered to her. Newt's gaze immediately shot up to him, Thomas could practically see the panic on his face.

"Bra thing?" Teresa asked, immediately crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing Newt suspiciously.

"I told you, remember?" Minho said with furrowed eyebrows. "Tommy frisked him and found out Blondie, here, wears a bra."

"I didn't frisk him, and it wasn't a bra." Thomas insisted. "It was a... a thing." He turned to Newt and whispered. "And that's all I told him."

Teresa slowly dropped her hands onto the table and narrowed her eyes. "A thing?"

Newt spoke up quietly, his turn to cover himself up. "I hurt my ribs a while ago, so now I have to wear bandages around my chest."

Thomas nodded in agreement, silently letting out a relieved breath. "Yeah. But look, forget it. Newt's my friend, so he's sitting with us."

The blond smiled to himself, ignoring stares from everyone at the table.

"So, um, anyway..." Teresa began with a fresh smile at Brenda. "The dress, it's gorgeous. It's red with, like, ruffles at the bottom and it'll look really nice if I can get Minho to agree to wear a red tie."

"No way. I refuse to wear a suit." Minho shook his head immediately. "You're my best friend and everything, but no way."

Thomas scoffed with a fake offence. "I thought I was your best friend."

Minho shook his head. "No, Thomas, Teresa's my best friend, you're my secret lover."

The brunet grinned at him until Newt spoke up. "Wait, the dress, does it have, like, green sparkles?"

Teresa gave him a suspicious look and nodded, so he continued. "Sonya's wearing the same one, she wouldn't stop telling Harriet about it in maths."

"What, really?" Teresa questioned, earning an anxious nod. "But I told her I was getting it! That evil- You know what, I don't even care. She's failing science anyway."

"It's ugly anyway. It'd make you look like a Christmas tree gone wrong." Newt countered. "Get something blue to match your eyes."

Thomas felt himself staring in surprise and looked at Minho and Brenda, who were doing the same.

"What?" Newt asked, glancing around the table nervously. "My mum made me hang out with girls a lot back in England." He shrugged, moving his gaze to the floor.

"Wow, you're glowing rainbows right now." Minho chuckled, grinning. Newt smiled at him nervously and Thomas squeezed his hand.

"Forget that, Newt, you have to help me find another dress." Teresa decided immediately. "And Min, you're coming with us. We're going to get you a nice suit from your dad's place and you're going to wear it."

"This prom's stupid anyway." Minho sulked. "Why do I have to pay ten dollars for a ticket to something I don't even want to go to?"

"Don't go then," Thomas added with a small smile. "Go on a real date like you've been wanting to do for years."

Teresa's face turned red, she looked at her hands, while Minho swallowed and glared at Thomas with a blush.

"No, I mean it." Thomas continued. "I'm not going. There's a festival on the same day, so Newt and I are going there instead. There's enough room in my car for the four of us."

"Plus Brenda," Newt interjected from nowhere, with a forced, kind smile. "If you want to come."

The brunette shrugged and looked at Teresa, who seemed interested. "Festival?"

"Pride," Thomas replied. "I figured it would be a fun day out, and since Newt needed a ride, it just made sense, you know?"

"That sounds good." Minho nodded, looking at Teresa like a child trying to get permission from his mother.

"So what's this sudden interest in guys, Thomas?" Brenda asked suddenly, with a tantalising eyebrow-raise. The brunet narrowed his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" He asked. Brenda scoffed.

"You've never liked guys before." She said; Thomas noticed Newt's eyes flick to her questioningly. "You were the school heart-throb, now you're, what, gay?"

"Heart-throb-?"

"It just feels like it's come out of nowhere." Brenda continued. "And  _Newt_? I mean, no offence, but if you were going to go gay for anyone, I thought it'd be someone like Minho, not that one kid at the back of the class that has no friends."

"Bren, what the hell?" Teresa whispered, cutting in before Thomas could say anything back. Brenda rolled her eyes and let out a long breath.

"Nothing. I'm just going to go." She stood up and climbed over her seat to get off of the bench, then walked away, leaving everyone confused.

"Maybe I should go with her." Teresa decided, following her lead. "But that pride thing sounds fun, I'll ask my mum."

Minho nodded and gave her a smile, but Thomas was still staring after Brenda. "What was that all about?"

There was a short silence, then he felt Newt's hand slip out of his palm. "I think I'm going to go." The blond mumbled as he stood up.

Thomas panicked slightly and embarrassingly reached for Newt's scarf to stop him leaving. "Because of what Brenda said about you?"

Newt dropped back into his seat, eyeing Minho before leaning in to quietly murmur. "What, Tommy, you think I wasn't aware that you all think of me as a total weirdo? No, trust me, I don't care about that. I just figured you'd want to run after her and sort all this out."

"Why?" Thomas questioned, matching Newt's quiet volume.

"Because you've been flirting with her for most of her high school experience and suddenly you're holding my hand." The blond said with a roll of his eyes. Thomas's forehead scrunched in confusion, but before he could ask anything, Newt continued. "Tommy, you've known each other for years, and she's probably been madly in love with you for all of that."

"That's true," Minho added. Thomas gazed between the two and sighed.

"So, what, I apologise for trying to introduce you to my friends?" He asked Newt, who shrugged.

"I'm sure Teresa will sort her out, don't worry about it." Minho decided as he dropped Thomas's phone onto the table. The brunet felt his eyes widen in panic and he immediately grabbed the object.

"Minho, what have you done to my phone?" He asked suspiciously, immediately analysing the device in excruciating detail.

"Oh, nothing." Said Minho with innocent eyes but a wicked grin. Thomas checked his contacts first, remembering the time his friend changed all his contacts' names to the worst swear words he knew, along with the odd 'prostitute', 'drug-supplier', 'hit-man'. He didn't even know it was Minho until he got a text from a certain 'Darth Vader' claiming he was Thomas's father. When the brunet recognised the number, he knew who had to be the one who'd changed the names.

He almost,  _almost_ let out a breath of relief when he found nothing new in his contacts, but when he checked his social media, he snarled at the phone like a dog. Posted exactly twenty times in a row was the same picture of the view from under the table, his and Newt's hands locked together. Under each picture was the caption "star-crossed lovers #lovemahNewty". Thomas heard Newt giggle, blushing, but the brunet groaned.

When he looked up, Minho had already disappeared, so all he could do was let his head fall onto the table with another groan.

"Oh, no!" Said Newt sarcastically. "Your reputation has been mercilessly tarnished!"

Thomas sat up and rolled his eyes, trying to hide a grin. "Shut it. I'm going to kill Minho."

Newt frowned jokingly. "I'm not that embarrassing to be around, am I?"

"No," Thomas sighed; he should really be deleting those photos from his account, but honestly what damage could it do? It was a nice picture. "You're great to be around."

"Flattered," Newt commented, smiling. It fell slightly, Thomas noticed, then he paused. "Hey, about what Brenda said..."

"Don't listen to her, she barely knows you." The brunet assured with a comforting smile, but Newt shook his head.

"No, I don't mean that." He said, looking at the floor. "I mean what she said about you. Have you really never been into guys before me?"

Thomas shrugged; he hadn't really thought about it. "I guess not. But it's not a big deal."

Newt nodded, twisting to face his front and stare at what he could see of the park through the surrounding trees. Thomas noticed the lip-chewing and decided that couldn't be the end of the conversation. "Why? Is that bad?"

"No," Newt replied, turning back to look at him. "I just-...Do you only like me because I'm not...?"

"What?" Thomas answered, slightly confused. Newt sighed.

"If you kiss me, you're kissing a guy." He elaborated. "Not a guy in a girl's body. A bloke. If that makes you uncomfortable, you should let me get back to sitting in the back of the class without any friends."

Thomas was still confused, he shook his head. "Newt, I've never thought of you as a girl anyway. I didn't even know you were...I mean, it was only last week when I found out..."

Newt forced a tiny smile. "I guess." He mumbled. Thomas grinned at him and kissed his cheek.

"See, did that kiss seem like it was for a girl?" He asked teasingly. Newt rolled his eyes and tried not to show that he was smiling slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I've been writing so much recently. I'm off school for the next six/seven weeks, so this is probably going to be updated quite a lot.  
> Speaking of updates (nice segue there, mate), I'm pretty low on ideas for how to fill the space in this fic. I know how it's going to end, I know most of how the scenes are going to play out, but I also know that there aren't a lot of fics with the whole trans base around it, so if there's any situation or scene you'd like to read, I take suggestions with open arms.  
> Hope you liked this chapter. As usual, if anything offended you, or you thought I got anything wrong, don't be afraid to let me know.  
> Thanks for reading xx


	6. Chapter 6

Thomas had always heard that everyone hated Mondays. Garfield hated Mondays, The Boomtown Rats wrote a song about how much they hated Mondays. The day seemed to be hated globally. That was understandable, Thomas wasn't a particular fan of them either. But this Monday had more cause than ever to be despised.

As he dropped his backpack onto the floor next to his usual lunch spot under the school bleachers, he took a moment to assess the morning's events.

Firstly, he'd caught random people staring at him in the hallway, muttering about him. That wasn't exactly new - Brenda was right when she said Thomas was a heart-throb. But this time, it was different, more hostile.

Secondly, he'd been called various names all morning, and random students had approached him with teasing "how's Newt"'s. Thomas had just shrugged and moved on, but because it happened more than once, he knew there was something going on.

Thomas's school's pupil count was relatively small in number, which meant stories and rumours spread almost instantaneously. It also meant it was only a few minutes waiting to go into his third lesson classroom before Thomas himself caught wind of the newest juicy gossip.

"Did you see the picture? It was all over his Instagram." Said one girl.

"I heard Aris caught them making out in a storage cupboard." Replied another.

"No way." Added someone else. "Newt, the homeless shank?"

"Mhm. I heard he calls him 'Tommy'." A fourth girl commented. "I don't know if that's cute or weird."

"It's cute." Argued the second girl. "I mean, totally weird, but it's cute."

"It's a shame, though, isn't it?" Said girl one. "Two hot guys are taken? That's less eligible prom dates."

"They're gay anyway, idiot." Giggled girl the second.

"Two?" Questioned the fourth girl. "You think Newt's hot?"

"Hell yeah." Girl one. "That whole mysterious bad-boy thing's sexy."

"Really?" Asked girl three.

"Well, _Tommy_ sure seems to think so." Teased girl two, at which point, Thomas tuned out of the conversation.

It's not that Thomas minded people knowing he was dating (was that the right word?) Newt - he'd be proud to show him off, it was just that he wasn't used to people talking about him like this, or giving him weird looks. It was not nice.

Not to mention that he'd heard the word boyfriend spread around. Newt wasn't his boyfriend, at least not officially. Thomas worried that the title would be too pressuring, like kids in the playground gathering around a "couple" and chanting until they kissed or hugged. They'd never even been on a date unless Thomas counted that evening at Newt's place, so the boyfriend title was maybe a little premature.

Usually, this was when Thomas would be happily chatting away with his friends, but today he sat in silence and replayed the whole day in his head. He wasn't dwelling on anything anyone had said, but he just wasn't used to any of this. It didn't make any sense. One week he was at the top of the student food-chain, the next he was the chunk of meat the lions were feeding on.

"Hey." A small voice sounded from next to Thomas. The brunet looked up and felt himself sigh when he saw Brenda chewing her lip, standing over him.

"Hey, Bren," Teresa interjected, done with her 'who can blush the hardest' competition with Minho. They'd been trying to find venues for their first date, but neither of them wanted to suggest anything for fear of being judged. Their options so far were dinner and a movie or...nope, that was all they had so far.

"Hello," Minho said distractedly as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to avoid Teresa's gaze. The brunette sent an expectant look Thomas's way, so he complied reluctantly.

"Hi, Brenda." He said with a forced smile. He hadn't seen Brenda since the "incident", and he wasn't sure whether things had simmered or not. She plonked herself down next to him and swung her bag onto her thighs.

"So...um, how are you?" She asked as she fiddled with the straps.

"Good," Thomas replied, glancing at his own bag, considering actually eating his lunch instead of just letting it rot in his lunchbox. "You?"

"I'm okay," Brenda answered, before leaving a long and slightly awkward silence. "Where's Newt?"

Thomas pointed at the wall surrounding the school, where the blond had been lying for the past few minutes, nibbling feebly at a sandwich as he read through some book the brunet had never heard of. "Over there."

"You haven't called him over?" Brenda asked curiously, Thomas would have expected venom in her voice, but there was none.

"No." Minho cut in. "Thomas figured you'd want to come sit with us, and he didn't want 'that one kid with no friends' making this place uncomfortable for you."

"Shut it, Min." He snapped half-heartedly, not in the mood for an argument.

Brenda groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, Tom. I was just being an idiot."

"What's your problem with him, anyway?" Teresa asked, seemingly completely over her scolding-mother superiority complex. Brenda sighed and looked up at Thomas with apologetic eyes.

"It's not him. I'm sure he's a great guy. I was just- I don't know, jealous?" She said with a sad face. "I guess it's always been T and Minho, and you and me, you know? Like when we imagined being older, Teresa was always married to Minho and they had little Minho's running around, and I suppose I always imagined that would be us."

"You imagined having little Minho's? That's so sweet." Minho interrupted, making the face he'd usually make when looking at a really adorable baby. Teresa blushed furiously and glared playfully at Brenda.

"Why?" Thomas asked the brunette, incredulous and slightly concerned. Brenda shrugged.

"I don't know." She said with a small laugh. "I guess you were the best candidate since I actually tolerate you."

Thomas chuckled. "I tolerate you too." He replied.

Brenda smiled at him, sighing. "Well, I'm glad that's out of the way. Now I'm going to apologise to Newt for being such a horrible person."

"Good that," Thomas grinned, the knot in his stomach that he hadn't noticed untangled slightly. She pushed her tongue out at him and stood up, swinging her bag over her shoulder and carefully getting out from under the bleachers before straightening her back; so as not to slam her head against the bottom of the metal seats. Thomas crawled towards the large gap between the bleacher seats and watched her head towards the blond from there, wondering curiously how Newt was going to take being approached by someone he barely knew.

Minho seemed curious too. "I can see the headlines now: 'Innocent crush turns into graphic murder scene'."

Thomas slapped his head. "Shut it, slinthead."

"Newt, the unsuspecting victim, was a quiet kid, undeserving of his untimely fate, bestowed upon him from an emotionally unstable high school student." Minho continued in his best newsreader voice, earning a second slap from Teresa.

"That's my friend you're talking about, idiot." She snapped.

"Brenda, our prime suspect, seemed such an innocent pupil until her classmates learned of a secret pocket-knife tucked into her sock, which she used to disfigure Newt's originally pretty face in a violent manner." He added to which he got sharp glares from his friends.

He stopped then, so Thomas focused on the blond's situation.

Brenda had reached him, but Newt being Newt, stared at the ground, or his book, or his hands, or pretty much anywhere that wasn't Brenda.

The brunette refused to stop talking, no matter how hostile Newt must have been making her feel. Not on purpose, obviously. But often, Newt's social awkwardness was mistaken for disinterest.

Thomas made out a few words Brenda had said, namely the word 'sorry' repeated a few times. Newt looked up at her finally, muttering something quiet. Brenda smiled at whatever he'd said, and Thomas grinned to himself, thinking maybe Newt was gaining a friend.

"Does he know you're staring at him?" A rough voice said from above the bleachers. "Cause, you know, it would be creepy if he wasn't your boyfriend."

"Shut up, Gally, he's not my boyfriend." Thomas snapped back, glaring at what he could see of the idiot sneering at him.

"Aw, you're blushing." Gally cooed. Thomas strengthened his glare.

"Leave me alone, shuck-face." He snapped. "I'm not in the mood for your crap."

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Gally said with a fake apologetic look. "That sucks."

"Gally, get out of here before I break your nose," Minho injected with one of his death glares. Gally nodded back at him, backing away slightly, but confidently.

"Have fun with your girlfriend, Tommy." He muttered as he disappeared. Thomas froze in place, his eyes widening on their own account. Did Gally...? Or was it just...?

He stood, banging his head on the bleacher seats. He ignored the throbbing pain that hit him all of a sudden and sprinted painfully after Gally. "Wait a sec."

Gally spun around, daggers in his eyes. "A few seconds ago you were trying to get me to leave, now you're running after me?"

"What do you mean girlfriend?" Thomas asked, gripping the bars holding the bleachers up and climbing them to get up. Gally rolled his eyes and watched Thomas swing his right foot over the bar, yank himself up, then stand up.

"It was a joke, Thomas." He said as he crossed his arms. "Why?"

"Nothing." The brunet decided; he was being paranoid. "I must've misheard you."

Gally stared at him for a moment, as if he was stuck on a complicated math question. Thomas stared back, trying not to look suspicious.

Finally, Gally spoke up. "You're his boyfriend, so...I mean, I'm guessing you know..."

"Know what...?" Thomas prompted, though he had a relatively good idea. Unless Newt had a different secret?

Gally thought it through, picking out the right words. "Why he's never seen the school changing rooms?"

Thomas's eyes widened again, he bit his lip. "How do you know about that?"

"Well, I figured it out last year, when I went to kick him in the nuts, but he didn't have... Plus its sort of hard to pin someone against a wall without accidentally feeling them up, right?" Gally replied in a small voice, looking at the floor. Thomas wondered if he felt bad, but the thought was dismissed when something else popped into his head.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" He asked.

Gally looked up and rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm not going to out him, that's not fair."

"But beating him up is fine?" Thomas spat, irritated. "You make life hell for him and suddenly you have morals?"

"Look, Thomas, I don't care what you think of me." Gally retorted, glaring at the brunet once more. "So, you can judge me all you want, but I'm pretty sure I'm owed some brownie points for not telling anyone."

Thomas wanted to retaliate, but Gally walked away as he was thinking up things he could say. He eventually just settled on getting back to his friends, which he did with heavy steps and gritted teeth. He slumped into his original seat, too annoyed to pay attention to the shanks sitting next to him.

After a few calming minutes of aggressively trying to unwrap his sandwich from its cellophane wrapper, Brenda poked his shoulder and extended a hand to him.

"Hey, you're going to be late for class." She said. Thomas looked up, noticing the herds of students flocking through the school doors. He groaned slightly and took Brenda's hand to pull himself up.

"Thanks for letting me know." He must've missed the bell. "I'm guessing Minho and Teresa were too busy rushing to class themselves to tell me, right?"

"Maybe." Brenda shrugged as she guided Thomas towards the school. "I was busy talking to Newt. He doesn't talk much, does he?"

"He does to me," Thomas replied. Brenda smiled at him.

"So has he got a sister or something?" She asked in a quiet voice, despite a sore lack of people within hearing proximity.

"Um, I don't think so, why?" Thomas answered.

Brenda gave him a confused look. "Funny thing, he asked me if I had any pads he could borrow."

"What, like a notepad?" Thomas asked, equally confused.

"No, stupid, like _pads,_ " Brenda said with a questionable gesture that Thomas wouldn't have accepted from anyone but his closest friends.

"Oh."

Oooooh.

Uh oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you liked this, hope you like the way this is going.  
> Backstory: I sent this to my transgender friend Alex, who insisted that periods pop up here somewhere because - his words - "periods are a sucky part of life and they make me want to commit homocide". So this one's for you, Al.  
> P.S. He's helping me write the next chapter for accuracy.  
> Anyway, I take suggestions for certain chapters if you have any scenarios you'd like to see.  
> As usual, if you get insulted or offended by anything at all, let me know ASAP so I can fix it. Don't just suffer in silence, let me know! I won't mind XD  
> Thanks for reading this, I hope you liked it.  
> See you next time xx


	7. Chapter 7

Thomas had been friends with Teresa and Brenda since they were kids, so periods were nothing new to him. The mood swings, the irritability, the cramps, the cravings, the bloatedness, Thomas had heard about it all. He'd never claim to understand, Teresa had made it blatant since the very beginning that he would never have any idea what she was feeling. He'd agreed to that without hesitation, glad he'd never gone through the torture the girls described it to be. Minho wasn't as understanding - he'd shrug them off with an insensitive "toughen up, it can't be that bad". Of course, he only did that the once because one fractured wrist was bad enough, he wasn't fond of the other following its lead.

Honestly, it was a little strange to Thomas. The whole 'my boyfriend's on his period' thing - minus 'boyfriend'.

 _But it shouldn't be._ Thomas decided as he unlocked his car and shoved his bag into the back seat. If he had a girlfriend, he'd have to deal with this anyway. So why was it weird having to deal with this with his boyfriend? Not boyfriend. This was confusing.

He considered avoiding Newt for a few days, to let the blond do whatever he usually did, but the sympathy in Thomas took over and he ended up doing the opposite.

He drove Minho from the parking lot to the road in front of the school, just next to the wall, Newt's wall, and climbed out with a small command to Minho to wait in the car.

The blond was sat on the wall as usual, so Thomas jumped to place a small kiss on his lips. He noticed some strange looks and a lot of people staring, but Newt ignored them, so Thomas decided to try to do the same.

"Hey, Tommy," The blond said as he licked his lips. "I haven't seen you around much today."

"Minho's waiting in the car so I'm going to make this quick." The brunet replied, resting his hands on Newt's hips, which were wide, for a guy, Thomas noticed. Though it probably made sense that they were, since...well, you know. "Brenda told me that you asked her for, um, those things that people use when they're, you know, going through some stuff."

Newt raised an eyebrow. "Wow, you're bloody great with words, aren't you, Tommy?"

The brunet rolled his eyes. "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"I think so," Newt frowned, dropping his head to look at the floor. "You're weirded out, aren't you?"

"What? No. No, it's just, sort of...new, I guess." Thomas answered as reassuringly as possible, though it didn't come off too convincing because it was a half-lie. It was a little weird. But it shouldn't take long for Thomas to get used to it, which was something he fully intended to do. "Anyway, Monday nights are movie nights. We get popcorn, we watch some movies, we eat candy until one of us throws up. Minho and I sleep top and tail but you can borrow the spare room if you want? Or I'll take you home later. It's up to you, really. Interested?"

Newt bit his lip and shook his head. "Sorry, I don't do sleepovers."

"So I'll drive you home after the movie." Thomas decided with a smile. "C'mon, Newt, I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Why are you so determined to make me watch a movie with you?" Newt smirked, chuckling quietly.

"Because you're my friend and I want to look after you," Thomas answered.

"I'm pretty sure friends don't kiss each other." Newt supplied, grinning.

"Right," Thomas agreed. "But I know what I'm doing. I used to do stuff like this for Teresa and Brenda all the time; T gets cravings for chocolate, so I'd sneak some into her bag throughout the day, but Brenda gets cranky when you assume that's the answer to everything, so she needs a playlist of mellow music paired with noise-blocking headphones and a lot of Advil. I broke into her house once to run her a bubble bath but her uncle Jorge almost shot me for breaking and entering."

"Wow, Tommy, perhaps chivalry isn't dead." Newt laughed heartily.

Thomas winked at him. "That's right. I'm here to treat you like the prince that you are."

Newt smirked. "Sap."

"C'mon, Newt, I'm a great guy, and I'm worried you haven't noticed yet." Thomas teased, his eyes softening to achieve the puppy-dog look Minho was so good at. "Pweeaase?"

Newt giggled softly, which died down after just a short second. He thought for a long moment, the silence earning more hilarity with every second before he leant forward and kissed Thomas's lips, slightly longer than the half-second kisses they'd usually share. It was more like a short smooch-session then their ordinary pecks. It was nice, left the two of them slightly pink.

"Shall I take that as a yes?" The brunet smirked once Newt had let him go. The blond grinned at him.

"You can take that as a thank you." He decided as he hopped off the wall and swung his bag over his shoulder. "Spending the evening with you two can't be any worse than spending it with my mum."

"Flattered," Thomas replied sarcastically, following Newt towards the car.

"Oh, um, Tommy?" The blond called out just before he opened the car door. "Can we stop somewhere so I can get...you know."

Thomas nodded. "Yeah sure. We need to get candy anyway."

Newt grinned and climbed into the back seat, ignoring angry stares from Minho, who was still strapped into the front. Thomas opened the driver seat door and smiled evilly at Minho.

"Hey, Min, guess who's invited to movie night." He teased. He climbed into the seat and slammed the door, all while Minho silently seethed.

"Are you serious?" He said through gritted teeth. "Newt's coming to movie night.  _Newt's_  coming to  _movie night._   _Our_ movie night?"

"Love you too, Minho," Newt muttered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear him.

Thomas giggled to himself as he started the car and headed off of the school premises.

**

They stopped outside a one-stop gas station so they could pick up whatever they needed, though the store didn't have much in stock. Thomas filled his arms with chocolate bars and candy packets while Minho grabbed various bags of potato chips and popcorn. Newt grabbed some ice cream on his way to the pharmacy aisle, which he was still standing at after Thomas had paid for his items.

"Too much choice?" The brunet joked as he nudged the blond in the rib. Newt looked up at him, glanced at Minho, who was busy analysing the back of a bag of chips.

"I hate buying these stupid bloody things." The blond muttered, reaching for the closest pack of products to him. Thomas gave him a curious look.

"They're just pads." He supplied in a whisper. Newt rolled his eyes and shoved the pack into his pocket to conceal them from the other customers.

"That's not- I mean," he looked at the floor. "I'm already an emotional wreck and on top of that I have a constant reminder that my body is completely wrong."

Thomas gave him a sympathetic look and wrapped his arm around the blond's waist in a comforting gesture. "Everyone gets insecure sometimes."

"No, it's not like that." Newt shook his head, gripping Thomas's wrist to pull him off.

"So what is it like?" The brunet gave him an expectant look, waiting for an answer. When he didn't get one, his expectant look turned into a confused one. "C'mon, you always talk to me about this stuff."

Newt shrugged and looked at the floor. "I'd rather just forget it, Tommy. It's not really a nice feeling, we'll leave it at that."

Thomas gave him a concerned expression, but the blond went back to analysing the shelves, this time looking for a pack of cough sweets.

"Oh yeah, fudge brownie okay?" He said, reaching out for some.

"What?" Thomas asked, confused.

"Ice cream," Newt replied. "Do you both like fudge brownie flavour?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Thomas answered lamely, disappointed that he didn't get a response. They were dating, didn't that mean they sort of had to talk about their feelings and all that soppy crap?

Newt nodded intently and headed towards the drinks refrigerator to pick up two large bottles of Coca Cola that were on sale.

"I'm going to go wait in the car," Thomas called to him as he watched him walk away.

The drive home would have been quiet had Minho not insisted on blasting the radio so loud it made Thomas's ears ring when he parked the car and turned it off. Minho singing along was the worst part, though. Newt didn't seem to mind, Thomas caught him nodding along every now and again. Whatever had happened in the store was soon forgotten when Thomas welcomed his friends into his house and Newt's reaction to the place was a hearty "Bloody hell."

Thomas grinned and dropped his school bag on the floor next to the front door. "It's big, huh?"

Newt nodded and dropped his own bag next to Thomas's. Minho joined next, kicking his shoes off and leaving them messily on the floor. "Yeah, Tommy's grandparents are loaded."

Thomas smiled in agreement and headed toward his kitchen to drop their treats on the table and flip on the kettle. "Tea or coffee?"

"I'm okay, thanks," Newt replied politely as Minho pulled one of the bottles of coke out of the shopping bag and opened it up with a sizzling noise. Thomas nodded and switched the kettle off.

"Where's your mum?" Newt asked quietly as he sat on one of the bar stools next to the counter.

"Work," Thomas replied simply. He watched Minho chug almost a quarter of the large cola bottle then drop it onto the table.

"Yeah, she works nights on Mondays." He added. "That's why we have movie nights today."

Newt nodded and hummed as a response, then leant forward on his elbows. "So what are we watching?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a really short chapter but I'm unbelievably busy for the next few days and I wanted to get /something/ up before everything gets hectic and I can't work on this at all. It shouldn't be too long a wait for the next chapter but I just thought I should probably give a heads up before going off the radar :) Who knows, maybe I'll be able to find free time??? Don't get your hopes up XD  
> Hope you like this baby chapter anyway, heh. I've got a lot more planned for the next one, so it should be a bit more eventful than this one.  
> Thanks for reading xx


	8. Chapter 8

"She's in love with the goofy friend. It's always the goofy friend." Thomas murmured, absently messing with Newt's hair. The blond had cuddled against him a while ago, ice-cream tub and mountain of chocolate on his lap, and the brunet hadn't been able to help himself from twisting his fingers into his golden locks. Newt had protested at first but was now leaning into the touch, humming every now and again. He hadn't really been in a good mood through the evening, but Thomas had tried his best to keep him happy.

"Nuh-uh, I like the jock," Minho disagreed, looking up from the bowl of popcorn he'd just dropped his phone into to the actors making out on the TV screen.

"The jock?" Newt repeated as he pulled his spoonful of ice-cream out of his mouth, teasing with his eyes. "Yeah, I can see why you'd like him."

Thomas giggled, squeezed Newt's waist with one arm while the other slipped out of his hair. The blond gave him a trying smile and a small, cold kiss on the cheek before continuing to type his number into Thomas's phone. It was odd they hadn't exchanged numbers yet, but better late than never, eh?

"You feeling better?" Thomas asked in a whisper - Newt had complained of 'a stomachache' earlier, which was actually the reason Thomas had pulled him into his arms. Newt sighed, groaning ever so slightly.

"Little bit." He answered, sitting up. There was a short silence, then a quiet, "Not really."

Thomas gave him a sympathetic smile and squeezed him, handing him the hot water bottle he'd been hugging close to him until Thomas had replaced the spot with his hands. Newt grinned and slipped the bottle under Thomas's arms, so the brunet held them there despite his plan to get up and go get some more snacks from the kitchen.

"That should help." He assured the blond, grabbing the closest chocolate bar and beginning to unwrap it.

"Thanks, Tommy." The blond smiled as he turned slightly pink and fiddled with the cap of the bottle. "You really don't have to help me like this."

Thomas kissed him in answer, tasting the sweet, chocolatey taste of his ice cream. He pulled back and shoved his chocolate bar into the tub of ice cream to scoop a large ball of the dessert into his mouth, but the clump dropped off of his bar and onto Newt, who flinched.

"Aw, no, Tommy," he laughed half-heartedly, pulling the fabric away from him. "You got ice cream on my shirt- your shirt."

Thomas giggled, noting the blush that arrived at Newt's cheeks. He'd borrowed the blond his old Doctor Who t-shirt, proud of the reason he gave; "a British show for a British bloke", and some old shorts that honestly could have probably been a pair of boxers, but Thomas didn't take the time to observe them before tossing them at Newt, so he was stuck with them.

"It's so cold." He shuddered as the fabric catapulted back to his stomach. Thomas adjusted the hot water bottle to cover the spot and laughed.

"That's not really going to do your stomachache much justice." He chuckled.

Newt smiled at him, resulting in a roll of Minho's eyes. "You two are disgusting. It's just a shuck stomachache."

Newt ignored him but Thomas shot him a glare. "You're just jealous."

"Oh, yeah," Minho agreed sarcastically. "I'm so darn jealous. Yeah, I wish I had a psychopath boyfriend. So hot."

"We've been through this, Minho," Thomas huffed, apologising to the blond with his eyes. "Newt's not a psycho."

"Well, I refuse to believe he's not hiding something," Minho replied as he narrowed his eyes to examine the blond, who glared at him and flipped him off.

"Piss off, shank," he spat, irritated. "My life's none of your business."

Thomas nodded in agreement, shooting a warning look at Minho, who tutted and looked back down at his phone. He scrolled for a second or two before huffing a short laugh. "Hah, have you seen this?"

"What?" Thomas asked, sitting up to try to see what he was looking at.

"The poster for prom, you know, the one they put on the internet?" Minho answered as he handed the brunet the phone. Thomas analysed the poster, which was much the same as all the ones plastered all over the school. He felt Newt's breath hitch, then heard a loud groan from the boy.

"They put it on the internet?" He asked, disappointment on his face.

"Yeah," Minho replied, suspicion on his. "Why?"

"My mum goes on the internet," Newt explained without explaining, pushing Thomas's arms and the hot water bottle off of him and searching for his phone in the mess of candy on the bed. He eventually found it sitting just under his thigh and unlocked it with a scowl. Thomas didn't understand until he spied what Newt was looking at on his device. Text messages:

**To: Mum**

**Staying at Tommy's tonight**

**Be back tomorrow after school**

 

**_Read._ From: Mum**

**Staying overnight? Should I be worried?**

**We've had 'the talk', haven't we?**

**Preventing pregnancies? And STDs?**

 

**To: Mum**

**Bloody hell, mum, it's movie night. His friend Minho's here too.**

 

**_Read._ From: Mum**

**Oh, okay then, have fun xx**

**Not too much fun though LOL** **;) xx**

 

**To: Mum**

**Yuck.**

 

 _**Unread.** _ **From: Mum**

**Just saw a poster for prom on that Facebook website - sounds like fun! Are you thinking of going? xx**

**You should go!!! xxx**

**Ask Thomas to go with you! x**

**Or are you not together yet? xx**

**If you're not, we'll get you a dress that'll make him fall in love with you LOL ;D xx**

**Oh, I'm excited now! You have to go! xx**

**I'm window shopping for a dress on Google. When** **you get home we can go out and find one. Ooh, this is exciting! xx**

**Ask Tommy to come! We can get him a suit to go with it! x**

**Answer me, N-**

The blond growled and dropped his phone to his side, burying his face in his hands. "Bloody hell. I can never go home."

"Why, what's up?" Minho asked, still suspicious. Newt didn't answer, instead, he groaned into his palms.

"Can't you just tell her you're not going?" Thomas suggested, but Newt looked up at him and shook his head.

"She'll just insist that I go." He murmured, irritated. "This is going to bloody suck."

"What's going to bloody suck?" Minho questioned, eyeing the two suspiciously. Thomas elected to ignore him and instead rubbed the blond's back in an attempt to be comforting.

"I'll come with you if you want." He offered. "You know, shopping."

"No way." Newt decided without a moment's thought, fingers sneaking into his hair. "Never in a million years am I allowing you to see me in a bloody-"

"Just for moral support." Thomas corrected, interrupting before Newt could say anything in front of Minho. "I pinky promise I won't look."

"You're not coming," Newt said in his 'and that's final' voice. Thomas wanted to argue but decided it was probably futile.

"It can't be that bad." He tried. "I mean, I know it's not exactly the ideal way to spend an afternoon, but it's not that big a deal."

Newt rolled his eyes and tugged at his hair. "Tommy, stop patronising me."

Thomas furrowed his brows. "How am I patronising you?"

The blond bunched his fist into his locks, and Thomas could sense an argument brewing. He felt his stomach dip - the last thing he wanted to do was argue with Newt. "You keep assuming things without an ounce of knowledge about what you're talking about."

"How do I?" Thomas knew he was just pouring gasoline on the fire but he'd never been one to stand back and let people accuse him of things he was sure he wasn't doing.

Newt sucked in a long breath and relaxed his fist as he exhaled. "It's not that I'm insecure, it's not that it'll be a mild inconvenience to go shopping with my mother. It's more than that and I hate that you think you get it, Thomas."

Uh oh.  _Thomas_. It sounded wrong in Newt's voice.

"Well, explain it to me." The brunet requested, still annoyed at Newt's sudden attack on him. "You can't complain that I don't get it when you won't help me understand."

"You just act like none of this matters." The blond seemed to ignore him. "And I'm glad that you don't mind and you still like me but it feels like- It just feels like you're not really thinking about this."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas asked, confused and slightly angry. He didn't like that he didn't understand this.

"You-" Newt began, practically seething, rambling as if he was letting random words leak out of his mouth. "You don't like guys. Or at least you didn't until you met me, and while I honestly don't care whether you're gay, bi, whatever. It just scares me that maybe you're not thinking about this logically, or really getting it into your head that I'm not a girl. I've never been a girl and I never will be and you're going to have to put up with it if you want to-"

He looked up at Thomas, just watching him for a long time before he sighed and shook his head.

"Forget it." He said, dropping everything on his lap aside so he could get off the bed. "I'm tired and annoyed and I really just want to sleep."

"Wait-" Thomas attempted, but Newt only turned back to grab the hot water bottle, and snatch his phone off of Minho, who'd been trying to guess his password for the past few minutes.

"G'night." He mumbled, heading for the door. Thomas chewed the inside of his cheek, unsure what this argument was, apart from a disgruntled diary entry in the scrapbook of Tommy & Newt's Relationship, entitled 'The First Fight!'

How was he supposed to fix this if he didn't understand it?

He decided that two hours later, when Minho was already fast asleep, probably tuckered out from his interrogation of Thomas the moment Newt left the room. The brunet had been laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, thinking that all of this would be forgotten in the morning, but he still couldn't sleep. He rolled over onto his side, glancing at his alarm clock. 2am-ish. He reached out and felt around for his phone, then fired a short text to Newt, who'd set himself as 'Romeo' on Thomas's phone.

**To: Romeo**

**Where for art thou? In other words: u awake?**

The response was almost three minutes later.

**From: Romeo**

**Yeah. Can't sleep :/**

At that, Thomas was already on his way to the spare room. He reached the door and decided to knock, not wanting to startle the blond. "Can I come in?"

The small call back very almost made sense. "Yeah, if you want." Sort of. It sounded more like "Yefuwat."

Thomas nodded to himself and pushed the door open slowly, frowning when he saw the blond on his back, staring up at the ceiling like he had been mere minutes ago. He closed the door behind him and leant against it for a minute. He felt sad. Not the kind of sad that made him want to burst into tears, or stare dramatically out of a rainy window, just the sort of sad that made him want to sigh deeply and close his eyes for a bit.

"Y'alright?" Newt asked, not really looking at him.

"Kind of. You?" Thomas replied from the door, taking a few exhausting steps towards him. Newt let out a long breath.

"Tired. And in slight pain." He said, twisting his head to look at the brunet, who had laid down next to him, also staring at the ceiling.

"Your stomachache?" He asked, but Newt shook his head.

"No, it's my chest. I don't usually sleep with these bloody bandages on." He answered, still staring at the ceiling. Thomas gave him a questioning look.

"So take them off." He suggested, but Newt shook his head.

"Sorry, Tommy, but that's a bit of a no-zone for me." He sighed.

"You really need a binder, don't you?" Thomas said with a sympathetic look. Newt shrugged.

"That's not really my number one priority at the moment." He said, hinting with his eyes at something Thomas finally understood after probably a little too long.

"So, what's up?" He questioned, tried to see things from Newt's perspective, though he still didn't quite get it. "Just explain it to me. I won't say anything."

Newt rolled onto his side and breathed for a while, then spoke up. "I feel a bit babied." He began. "Like you're just brushing off everything I feel. Don't get me wrong, you do a lot for me and I don't really know why because I have no idea how to do that back. But it feels like every time I tell you something, you assume you get it because you want to help, and you're not much use if you don't understand."

He seemed to end it there, so Thomas rolled over to look at him and gave him a nod to go on.

"Okay, imagine you stand up right now, yeah? And you go up to that mirror over there," he pointed somewhere around the patch of wall with a mirror nailed to it. "And instead of seeing Tommy - you know, broad shoulders, square jaw, men's...privates - you see Teresa."

"Why Tere-?" The brunet stopped himself before he said anymore, then nodded to prompt more from the blond.

"She's got long hair and long legs and massive- you know, uh," a short cough. "Breasts."

Thomas felt his lip curl up slightly, laughing quietly. Newt joined him for a tiny chuckle. "No, no, I'm serious. Imagine it. Close your eyes."

The brunet felt his eyebrow arch, but Newt was adamant. "C'mon, do it. Close your eyes."

He did as he was told.

"Right, so you stand up, you look in the mirror." He heard Newt say. "And Teresa's there, she's your reflection. You're the one with long hair and long legs and boobs. And you've got wide hips, like Beyonce or Shakira."

Thomas felt a jab on his side and twitched, but kept his eyes closed.

"You're probably a bit shorter too." Newt continued. The brunet felt his fingers being pushed apart, then a hand was in his. "You've got lady hands too. All bony and small."

Thomas was finding it difficult to imagine with Newt messing with his fingers, but he tried his best.

"And if you were looking at yourself naked, you wouldn't have that chiseled chest of yours, or the right 'down-below'." Thomas appreciated the break of the pattern of touching what he was talking about there.

"Are you imagining it?" Newt asked, to which Thomas nodded obediently. "Good. Now imagine you're wearing a dress. All pink and frilly and slightly like a marshmallow."

Thomas giggled, but Newt shook his head. "Imagine it, Tommy. What's it like?"

"Mm," okay, honestly, Thomas might be dozing off slightly. Well, it was 2am and he was laying down, next to Newt's body heat. "Feels like I'm looking at Teresa with a marshmallow dress on."

There was a moment of silence and the brunet wondered if he'd said something wrong, whether he should be concentrating harder. Should he be feeling something else?

"That's what it feels like," Newt whispered, bending Thomas's fingers into a fist then releasing them. "Feels like you're looking at a completely different person. Although, usually, that person is a stranger and you're stuck with looking at that person for the whole of your life. And for some reason, everyone thinks that stranger is you."

Wow. Thomas truly didn't know what to say. He felt bad now.

There was another silence, then Newt dropped his hand. "I'd like to see you try to call that insecurity."

"That was deep," Thomas commented, too tired to open his eyes as he pulled the blond into his grasp.

Newt sighed, Thomas felt his nose poke into his eyebrow and almost smiled, but didn't have the energy. "Tommy?"

"Mm?"

"I'm a trans boy," Newt rolled over, or that's what it felt like to Thomas, and pulled his hand around his waist, reconnecting their fingers.

"I know." The brunet replied, kissing what had to be the back of Newt's neck.

"It's a big part of me," the blond added. "It's not some taboo subject, alright? The only reason no one in school knows is because back in England I was bullied mercilessly for it, and I really don't want to go through that again. I'm not ashamed."

"Why are you telling me?" Thomas asked, his lips barely moving, too tired to process anything but what he was hearing from Newt.

The blond kissed his lips, lingering for a long time. "Because I don't want you to feel like you can't be proud of me. I'm not telling you that you have to be proud of me, I just thought you should know that I'm proud of who I am, so if you want to be too, it's allowed."

"I may have to get back to you in the morning," Thomas mumbled sleepily, burying his face in Newt's hair. "I think I'm passing out."

He felt Newt laugh. "Yeah, alright. Sleep tight, Tommy."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY xD  
> It's probably a bit of a disappointment but I tried my best with the very few ideas and the very little time I had. I only had time to write a few sentences a day until now, which means it's 3am and I just finished this. And I threw in some fluffy, cutesy moments because why not?  
> I just have this constant image of Thomas and Newt being that one couple that just won't stop with the PDA, so that's where most of this chapter came from. Idk I just wanted something cute in here.  
> Thanks to my BFF Alex for helping me out with some of this, and for allowing me to cry a little bit when we spoke about this earlier. I honestly sobbed so hard when he told me (in more detail and with a lot less romanticism) about how he felt about himself before the "miracle of hormone injections" - that would be where the explanation of how being trans/gender dysphoria feels like came from. And I know it's probably different for everyone, but I liked the description Al gave me, so that's what I went with.  
> Feedback is welcome and if you spot anything that could be seen as offensive in any way, let me know!  
> The next chapter should definitely not take as long. Thanks for reading, hope you like it xx


	9. Chapter 9

"Tommy, crap, we're really late."

The mattress was moving, and Thomas could hear ruffling and quiet mumbling. That was all he could process, still half-asleep. "Wha...?" He mumbled, reaching out for Newt but finding an empty patch of bed.

"We're really bloody late," Newt replied from across the room. There was a short pause and then the sound of paper. "Minho's gone. He left a note that he borrowed your car. Crap, we're so late."

"Late?" Thomas repeated, trying to grasp the words properly. He felt something fabricated cover his face, then a muffled call.

"There's a shirt for you," Newt said. "Hurry up, get changed."

"Why?" Thomas asked, closed-eyed still.

There was a pause, then he felt someone slap the back of his head. "We're late, slint-head. For school. Hurry up."

Thomas opened his eyes, groaning. All he saw was blue fabric - must be the shirt. He slowly reached up and pulled it from his face, squinting to get used to the light that clogged his vision all of a sudden. He caught sight of Newt fixing his hair in the mirror and frowned, he rather felt like he'd missed out on waking up next to him.

"Jeez, calm down." He smiled anyway, sitting up. Newt looked at him through the mirror, probably expecting a bit more than that. "Come back to bed, we'll take the day off."

"We can't just skip school." Newt tutted as he turned around to actually look at him. Thomas rolled his eyes and spun onto his knees to clamber towards him.

"C'mon, I was comfy until you got up." He took Newt's hand in his own and pulled him closer, placing a long kiss on his lips. The blond sighed into the kiss and snuck his hands onto Thomas's waist.

He pulled back, though their noses were still touching. He had a glint of relief in his eyes. "What exactly would we do all day?"

Thomas shrugged, smiling sweetly. "Cuddle?"

"No thanks, Tommy," Newt answered, smirking as he let go of the brunet. Thomas pulled him back into his original spot and kissed him again.

"Or...we could get coffee?" He offered. "We could actually go on a real date."

Newt thought for a moment, sighing once or twice. "Okay. That sounds nice."

Thomas grinned and let go of him to lie backwards. He tapped the space next to him to gesture for Newt to join him, though the blond had to raise an eyebrow before he crawled back to his place on the bed. He lay on his back, practically an invitation for Thomas to put an arm around him.

"Did you slap me earlier?" The brunet mumbled. Newt giggled.

***

After an hour or so of lazing around together, the two got dressed and hit the town. Thomas borrowed Newt some warm clothes, but what the blond had been wearing the day before served cold-proof enough. Thomas had a favourite cafe, which Newt was more than happy to try out. He claimed he wasn’t a big coffee drinker, but neither was Thomas. They both thought it was too bitter and made people’s breaths smell bad. So Newt ordered a cup of tea and Thomas got a milkshake. The brunet offered to get a second straw so they could have that cliché ‘milkshake sharing’ picture, but Newt didn’t take him up on the offer. Instead, he took a picture of just Thomas sitting across from him, smiling sweetly with a milk moustache because he’d disregarded his own straw a while ago.

“That’s going on Instagram.” Thomas heard him mutter as he shoved the device back into his pocket, and he was slightly surprised.

“You have an Instagram profile?” He asked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Newt shrugged.

“Sort of.” He said as he fiddled with the tea-bag’s string. “My phone runs out of storage really fast so I post my most important pictures so I don’t use up so much space with photos.”

“Oh, cool,” Thomas replied, glancing at his own phone, which was sitting just next to him on the table. “How many followers do you have?”

Newt seemed slightly offended by the question, his eyes narrowed like Thomas had just said the most stupid thing ever. “Uh, none, idiot. I have no friends.”

Thomas paused, bottling his sympathy because it was oh, so clear the blond didn’t want any pity looks. He picked up his phone, unlocked it and opened up the app, thanking the café silently for having free wifi. “Let me follow you. What’s your username?”

“Um, the-underscore-glue…It’s something my grandma said once.” His face turned slightly pink like he was embarrassed by the name. “’He’s the glue that holds your family together, that boy’. I’d just come out and my mum was still dealing with it, so she kept making jokes that she'd put me up for adoption and that would fix me. My nan stuck up for me, and I liked what she said, so, y'know, 'the glue' made sense.”

Thomas smiled at him as he pressed the screen to follow his date, then proceeded to scroll through his account, smiling confusedly to himself when he only saw two pictures - one being a screenshot of a texted conversation and the other being a photo of a young child with ice cream all over his face.

"Newt, what exactly do you mean when you say you post important pictures?" He asked, unsure if he should be confused or concerned. The blond bit his lip.

"Oh, yeah." He laughed awkwardly, placing his cuppa back onto the saucer. "The kid's my cousin, it's the only picture I have of him. And the texts are...really not the first conversation we had on the phone, I promise."

Thomas smirked at him. "Wow, who's the sap now?"

Newt shrugged, tomato-red. "I just figured we'd probably talk some more and I didn't want to lose it."

That was not cute. Not at all. Not in the slightest. No way.

Thomas smiled at him and put his phone away, noticing Newt's own device glint with the notification. Thomas glanced at it, then back up at his date, searching for the straw in his drink with his tongue.

"So, other than neglecting social media, what do your hobbies include?" He asked as he finally latched his lips around it and slurped some of the drink.

Newt stared out the window as he thought, tapping his forefinger on the mug he was cupping in his palms. "Reading? I like reading. Sometimes I help my mum with the gardening, that's fun. I like walking. I walk sometimes."

Thomas raised an eyebrow and dropped the straw. "Reading, gardening and walking?" He said with a smirk. "Not exactly what I'd call a good time."

"Yeah, I know," Newt simpered, pink once again. "I sound like a complete grandad."

"Well," Thomas grinned as he sat back against the leather seat of the booth. "I didn't really expect much difference from the guy who used the word 'quaint' to describe this cafe as he sipped some tea."

"Hey, it's part of my British heritage, Tommy," Newt smirked.

Interesting new topic.

"Tell me about that." Thomas prompted. "What was it like growing up in London?"

Newt shook his head. "No, I didn't grow up in London. I lived in a flat there, but we moved out after a few months."

"Oh?" Thomas questioned. The blond nodded and brought his tea up to his lips without drinking yet.

"Yeah. I moved around England a lot until we moved here." He said, blowing lightly at the light brown liquid. "There isn't really a reason I moved around so much; we just never seemed to like it anywhere."

"Do you miss it?" Thomas asked, rather rudely - he knew it was a personal question.

The blond sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he set the cup down on its saucer without drinking from it. "Not really. But sometimes I wonder if it's only cause I have so many bad memories from being there. Like, back then I wasn't comfortable with myself, I didn't know who I was and how to deal with it, y'know? Not to mention I was bullied way worse than now. By the time we moved here, I was sure of myself. I knew who I was, I accepted it and I guess, here just feels more like home."

Thomas gave him a sad smile, then the two fell into silence. It was a little awkward and somewhat sad, but no one made a move to end it until Newt spoke up, almost a full five minutes later.

"Have you ever been in a relationship before?" He asked, casually, but Thomas could see the curiosity in his eyes when he looked up from where he'd been organising packets of sauces in order of light coloured to dark.

"Uh, I dated Sonya for a few months," he answered as he placed a packet of ketchup next to a pack of brown sauce. "And Beth for a couple months after that, and then I took Harriet to the movies once, but Sonya got mad at her because I'm an ex, and there's a rule against that or something."

Newt nodded, stirring his tea with his teabag. Thomas continued as he scooped up the sauce packets and stuffed them back into their box. "Have you? Ever had a boyfriend?"

The only answer he got was the blond shaking his head, silently, then looked up, chewing his lip. "I had a girlfriend once."

Thomas felt his eyes widen, immediately, curiosity overwhelmed him. "Are you serious? Who?"

"A girl back in England." Newt shrugged, still slightly embarrassed. "I was about fifteen, maybe sixteen, and she was my best friend."

"Did she know you were trans?" The brunet asked. Newt shook his head.

"Nope. _I_ knew I was, but I wasn't really ready to tell anyone." He said, half-smiling. "She was gay, and my shuck-self thought that if I was a guy, I had to be straight. We dated for about half a year."

"Wow," Thomas hummed, amused. "Did you like her?"

"Course," Newt grinned. "Not exactly in _that_ way, but I wasn't going to complain about constant cuddling, was I?"

Thomas nodded, then hurried to ask another question. "Was she pretty?"

"Yup." The blond smiled to himself as if he was remembering her.

"Did you-," Thomas began. "Did you ever...you know...do the do?"

Newt's eyebrow arched. "That's a bit personal, isn't it, Tommy?"

The brunet ignored the words and noticed the blond's slight blush instead. "You did!"

Newt shook his head, giggling, pushing his hair behind his ear, which was as red as the rest of his face. "We tried a couple of times, but I always chickened out."

Thomas smiled at him and took a sip of his milkshake. "Wow, you had a girlfriend."

Newt huffed a laugh. "Well, I didn't expect that reaction from my boyfriend, but I guess I'm glad you don't mind too much."

Thomas blushed, waiting for Newt to notice what he'd said, though the blond just smiled at him and stared out the window as he sipped his tea.

"Um," the brunet began, trying to hint at him. "Boyfriend?"

Newt turned to look at him and put his drink down. "Yeah?"

"No, like 'boyfriend'?" Thomas repeated, changing his tone slightly. "Like, you're my boyfriend? It's official now?"

The blond bit his lip. "Oh. I just assumed since...well, we're on a date. Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Thomas assured, smiling. "I'm glad we actually have a name for this now."

"I know, right?" Newt agreed. "'Friend' doesn't cut it, but is it too soon to call you my boyfriend? This dating lark's too confusing for me."

Thomas chuckled at him, earning a grin as the blond drank the last few drops of his tea. Thomas copied him with his milkshake, and soon enough they'd both left the cafe.

Where they were going next was a bit of a mystery, though Newt was guiding Thomas like he had some sort of destination, so the brunet followed him, hand-in-hand, of course. Newt insisted they speak about almost everything people were supposed to talk about on dates; favourite things, childhood, family, old friends, goals in life. Thomas learnt a lot.

Newt's favourite colour was light blue, his favourite book was Oliver Twist - it was classic, what could he say? He had an okay childhood, nothing to brag about, but nothing to pity him for either. He had extended family he hadn't seen in a while, but most of them despised him anyway, so he didn't mind. He didn't really know what he wanted to do when he left school, but he claimed he thought that was okay because he was sure something would fall into place at some point.

Thomas told Newt about his love of running, announcing he was on the track team, and explaining how he wanted to do something to do with running after school. He told the blond that his favourite colour was orange, and he didn't read much. His favourite food was pizza, because who didn't love pizza? His favourite animal was a koala because they were adorable, and his favourite movie franchise was Star Wars, which prompted some conversation about that.

After a long while, Newt couldn't think of much else to say, and Thomas was comfortable walking in silence for a bit, so they did just that. Until Newt opened up the door to his house and pulled Thomas in. "Come on in, boyfriend."

Thomas smirked.

"Newt? Is that you?"

He watched the blond's face fall. He looked at the brunet and groaned softly. "I thought she'd be in work."

"Newt?" The blond's mother called out again, from the kitchen.

A few things to say popped into Thomas's head, but he stopped himself to realise how insensitive he'd sound if he said any of them. Newt had made an effort to explain to him how he felt - Thomas couldn't be stupid enough to dismiss that explanation, could he?

He decided to just sigh. A simple exhale filled with sympathy. He was glad to see that Newt understood what he meant by 'hhmmmm'. The blond left a short kiss on the corner of his lip before calling back. "Yeah, mum, it's me. And Tommy's here."

The kitchen door swung open not half a second later, and the woman rushed out, smiling at her son. "Are you just popping in or do you think you have time for a shopping trip?"

Newt rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't you be having a go at me for skipping school?"

"Nah, that's alright, you've probably got a reason." His mother shrugged, her gaze catching on the boy awkwardly twisting fingers with her son. "Oh, hi, Thomas."

The brunet smiled awkwardly at her.

"So, shopping? I've found a nice little dress shop not far from here, and since all the other girls are in school, we'll probably have it to ourselves." She continued. Newt frowned, but to Thomas's surprise, he nodded.

"Yeah, alright, might as well get it over with." He sighed. Thomas narrowed his eyes.

"You sound like you want to." He said with a small smirk. Newt sent him a glare.

"Mother dearest has a point. Everyone's in school." He replied. "No one's going to see me."

That made sense. Thomas gave him a motivational smile then let go of his hand.

"I'll get going then." He said, grinning politely at the blond's mother.

"No, Thomas, you have to come with us." Newt's mother insisted. The boys shared glances as she continued. "You have to help her choose."

"Uh, no, it's fine." Thomas decided, scratching the back of his neck. "He's gay, I'm pretty sure he can pick one himself."

"Gotta love stereotypes," Newt muttered, rolling his eyes. His mother shook her head.

"Thomas, you're coming. Go wait in the car, I'll get my handbag." She said, pushing the two into the doorway. Thomas stepped out of the house and got out of the way for Newt to do the same, simpering at him.

"Do you want me to run away so I don't have to come with you?" The brunet offered, but Newt took his hand and pulled him towards the car.

"Mum says you're coming, there's nothing I can do." He muttered. "But you're wearing my scarf as a blindfold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go. There's not much I can say about this one, just that it was sort of a filler chapter.  
> Hope you liked it, anyway. Next chapter coming soon :)  
> Thanks for reading xx


	10. Chapter 10

"Try this one."

Thomas really hoped Newt wasn't flipping his mother off as she reached into the dressing room to hand him a bright orange frock that the brunet had had to cringe at when he saw it. There was no reaction from the dressing room but a small groan, then a hand reached out to take the dress.

His mother smiled, pleased, and headed back to the couch Thomas was patiently waiting on. She dropped next to him and looked around, searching for more to add to the giant pile of fabric she'd given her son already. Thomas looked up at her from his phone and smiled before looking back down.

They'd been sitting awkwardly next to each other for all of...what, half an hour, now? The other half had been dedicated to searching for clothes for Newt to try on, but once his mother was satisfied with her gigantic pile of colourful fabric, the blond was shoved into a dressing room and wasn't heard from since. Apart from groans, of course. And the occasional yell.

"I'm not even going to this stupid prom anyway." Was the announcement they got this time. Thomas looked up and caught his mother rolling her eyes; she'd lost her patience with Newt's grumpiness a while ago.

"Which one is it?" She asked. There was a pause.

"The blue one Tommy picked up," Newt mumbled. "Sorry, Tommy."

"It's okay," Thomas called back as he bit his lip - he'd only picked that dress because the blond's mother had insisted he had to choose something, and that was on the closest shelf to him.

"Let's see." She called out, though Thomas thought it was probably pointless because every other time she'd asked him to leave the dressing room, he'd ignored her.

"No way," Newt shouted back. "I look like an idiot."

Thomas sighed and got back to playing the game on his phone. He had no intention of seeing Newt in a dress. At least not if it made the blond uncomfortable.

"You're going to have to show us one at some point, Newt." His mother called out, huffing. "Pick your favourite and let us see."

There was no response from the dressing room, so Thomas got back to trying to jump from platform to platform on his game. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Newt's mother sit back, exhaling loudly, glancing around the store. She looked at Thomas, then, from nowhere, rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you see in her. You're a cute kid, you're even on the track team. You should be serial dating the cheerleaders. I don't know why you're wasting your time with a wannabe cross-dresser."

Thomas looked up at her, reminding himself to be as polite as possible, though he was pretty sure he was already glaring at her. "I like Newt. He's cool. And the whole cheerleader thing isn't really me."

"It isn't?" Newt's mother questioned with a raised eyebrow, incredulous. "You're a teenage boy, of course, that's you."

"No, it's really not my thing." The brunet disagreed, clicking his phone off when he realised this was going to turn into a debate. "I'm not saying the girly girl thing's not cool, I just- I don't know, I guess I've always just liked girls like Brenda or Teresa." He was realising it as he said it. That was an odd new discovery - he had a type? "Like a girl who's one of the guys, you know?"

"Are you telling me you'd rather see a girl in trackies than in a dress?" Newt's mother asked, still not quite believing him. Thomas tilted his head, confused.

"Trackies? What are-" he cut himself off completely when his gaze caught sight of the dressing room doorway and he saw Newt standing there, frowning. All of the words he'd been meaning to say fell out of his mouth in a quick breath, which he then gasped back in.

It was the first time Thomas actually noticed how...how feminine Newt's body was. Was that a bad thing to say? Was he not supposed to think that?

It was true, though. The mint green fabric squeezed curves Thomas had never noticed before, even though the two of them had hugged and cuddled and Thomas definitely should have noticed. The dress was strapless on one shoulder, a factor that made Newt scowl when his mother pointed it out while it was still on the rack. But everything, even Newt's shoulders just screamed 'GIRL!'. His legs and arms were thin and bony, which wasn't exactly a woman's trait, but when paired with a dress that showed off his wide hips and his slight...chest bumps that wouldn't be as obvious if he were wearing his signature baggy t-shirt over the top, it was hard to find anything masculine on him at all.

Chest bumps? Idiot.

"You look..." Thomas breathed out, unable to even find the word. "Hideous. Absolutely horrifying. Oh god, Newt, get outta that thing."

He was lying. Newt looked gorgeous. But he looked gorgeous as a girl. As a bloke, he looked...well, still kinda hot, honestly. But he knew it wouldn't do to tell him that.

Newt's lips twitched into a shy grin at Thomas, but it fell when the blond's mother slapped him over the head. "Don't listen to him, Newt, you look bloody beautiful."

Her son frowned, glancing himself up and down in the mirror behind the couch. Thomas thought maybe he was contemplating his opinion of the fabric for a moment, but that thought was completely diminished when the blond's face scrunched in disgust. "It's the cheapest one so if I agree to let you buy it, will you never again mention any of this?"

His mother shook her head, eyebrows furrowed stubbornly. "No way, I gave you a pile for a reason. Go try on the rest. And show us from now on too."

Newt stared at her for a second, teeth gritting, before he huffed and stomped back to the cubicle. Just before he closed the curtain, he picked up his phone and handed it to Thomas. "Look after this for a sec, yeah? It's been going crazy."

The brunet smiled at him and nodded, turning on the phone's screen to see what he meant. Many notifications from Instagram. Many. All likes and new followers and comments along the lines of "Awww, so cute! *seven heart emojis*" or "Relationship goals *heart eyes emoji*". All that came from that one picture of Thomas drinking a milkshake on Newt's Instagram? Wow, maybe the brunet wasn't being dragged down. Maybe he was dragging Newt up?

"You can't tell me you really like her more in t-shirts and jeans. She looked beautiful in that dress." The blond's mother decided, leaning against the back of the couch. Thomas thought for a short moment, then shrugged.

"They seem more natural on him." He replied. "He seems more comfortable."

The woman tutted and rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything in response. Thomas took that as a sign the conversation was over so he got back to his game.

A few minutes later, Newt emerged from the dressing room in the orange frock his mother had handed him before, scowling. "I hate it."

Thomas decided not to say anything - 'decided' meaning he was stuck speechless. Damn, he had a hot boyfriend. The blond's mother looked him up and down for a long time, then shook her head. "It'd look good if you showed more cleavage." She decided crudely, not noticing when her son turned dark red, scrunching his face in disgust.

"Mum, Tommy's sat right there." He pointed to the brunet, who didn't say anything, deciding his input would upset _someone_ in this situation.

Newt's mother stood up, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, it's true. I buy you push-up bras for a bloody reason."

Thomas decided to just pretend he wasn't hearing any of this, for Newt's self-conscious sake. He looked down at the blond's phone instead, pretending to read through some of the notifications of comments people had left.

"Mum-" Newt began, but his mother cut him off as she took a few steps towards him.

"No, Newt, I mean it." She said, and Thomas saw her trying to fix the sitting of the fabric when he glanced up. "I don't know why you keep bandaging yourself up. Flaunt what you've got."

"I don't want what I've got," Newt argued, pushing her away. "And this dress bloody sucks with or without cleavage."

His mother exhaled. "Fine, go try on another one."

She sat next to Thomas after a moment, mumbling that her son was a waste of pretty. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, a question dawned on him.

"You're a nurse, right?" He questioned. "Aren't there a bunch of health risks that come with bandaging your chest? Why haven't you done anything about it?"

"Well, I tried to get her to stop but she said she wouldn't." His mother answered.

Thomas didn't say anything.

He tried, he really did  _try_ to keep his mouth shut when the woman made a comment about Newt's next dress - some pink ruffly one that the blond clearly did not want to be in. Thomas didn't even really hear what she'd said, but it made Newt frown, and that just annoyed him.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" He asked once the blond was back in his cubicle. The slight eyebrow raise he got from Newt's mother felt like enough of an answer for him to continue. "Why don't you support your son and the way he feels?" He asked, keeping his tone calm to indicate that he wanted to have a mature discussion about this.

Newt's mother exhaled deeply; clearly, this was a topic she had a lot to say about. "I love Newt, I do, and I'd die for her in a second. But this is something I just can't get behind. She's my daughter, she's been my daughter her whole life. Now all of a sudden she wants to be my son, a boy? It's not right. It's disrespectful, frankly."

"How so?" Thomas inquired, shoving aside his emotions for the blond so he was prepared to listen without getting defensive.

The woman paused to find the right words. "I gave birth to a girl. All her life I've been teaching her to be a lady. And she throws it all back in my face by pretending she's a bloke."

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, but he disagreed. "He's your son, the lady-like lessons should have stopped when he told you."

"Don't tell me how to look after my daughter." She snapped venomously. "She's going to grow out of this, then she's going to be glad I didn't let her go around telling everyone she's a boy."

"You think it's a phase?" Thomas felt anger rise in his chest, but it was his own fault for thinking he could have a rational debate with this woman.

"Of course." She replied with a smug look in her eyes like she knew she was winning the argument. "She's not going to be like this all her life."

Thomas huffed, trying to think of something to retaliate with, but Newt came out of the dressing room again, shaking his head. "Tommy, don't."

The dress was red this time, reaching his knees with straps on both shoulders. He looked good. It was looser than the others, so it must have been slightly more comfortable for the blond. Thomas looked up at him, noting the frown on his face. "Don't argue."

"I like this one." His mother said, smiling. "That one suits you, doesn't it, Thomas?"

"Yeah, I guess." The brunet shrugged, feigning indifference.

Newt nodded silently as his mother hailed him away. "Go try another one."

He did as he was told, yanking the curtain closed with just a glance to Thomas.

His mother crossed her arms, shifting to look at her son's boyfriend. "See? What about _her_ makes you think she's a boy?"

Thomas turned to look at her, teeth gritting - Newt had wanted them to be done with this argument, why would she try to carry it on?

"He told me he is," he argued stubbornly. "So he is."

"Well, maybe she should tell her body too." The woman muttered, rolling her eyes.

Thomas had to fight his face not to glare, but it failed. One. Two. Three. Okay, he'd calmed down enough now not to attack this closed-minded, arrogant, horrible woman. He breathed for a moment, seething, but after a second, the anger tightening his chest simmered.

"Why can't you just be nice?" He asked under his breath.

"I am being nice." Newt's mother replied. "She'll thank me for this when she stops lying to herself."

"What if it's not a phase?" Thomas asked, filtering himself so he didn't just yell profanities at her. He couldn't believe how infuriating it was to just speak to her. "What if he doesn't grow out of this?"

"She will." The woman decided, and Thomas could tell there was no swinging her opinion.

"You're a parent, you're supposed to support him no matter what. Even if this is a phase." He argued, only to get an eye-roll in response.

"Oh, don't start with those cliche arguments." She scoffed. "Just because she's pretending to be something she's not, that doesn't mean I don't love her. Of course I want her to be happy."

"And you accepting him would make him happy." Not that Thomas knew if that was true or not. Maybe Newt couldn't care less how his mother treated him. Thomas felt his stomach knot at the realisation that he'd started an argument without consulting Newt, the very person he was trying to defend, first. He hadn't meant to start an argument - he really had just wanted to understand why Newt's mother was so against all this, it had just gotten out of hand. That didn't mean he was backing down, though. "Is your crappy idea of right and wrong more important that your son's happiness?"

"I don't have a son!" The woman snarled back. "The girl in that dressing room isn't and never will be my son."

"Why not?" Thomas asked angrily. "Who is it hurting if you accept him as a guy?"

The woman didn't say anything, but Thomas could tell she was searching for a response. After a few seconds, she looked at the floor and muttered stubbornly. "I've heard it all before, Thomas. You're wasting your time."

He stared at her, jaw clenched. He dare she? How could she be so...so...ignorant, unkind, vicious. This was her son's welfare at stake, how could she just act like none of this mattered to please her own...what, reputation? She was a mother, wasn't the child supposed to come first?

"No, you're right." Thomas exhaled, standing, balling his fists. He dropped Newt's phone onto the empty seat on the couch and stuck his own phone into his back pocket. "I'm wasting my time."

He didn't want to leave; he still had to wait for his _boy_ friend, but he knew if he were to stay, everything would just escalate.

He glowered at the floor as he stomped over to the changing room, stopping only to call out. "Newt? I'm going to go."

The only response he got was a quiet "Okay."

Thomas paused before he nodded to himself and spun around to head to the door of the shop. He swung the door open and looked around, and it took him a moment to notice his car was nowhere to be seen. It took even longer to remember that he hadn't driven here, Newt's mother had.

Great.

He'd have to call Minho to pick him up. From a dress shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I've had the worst case of writer's block over the past week and I tried my best but I don't really like this chapter :/ I read through it and tried to make it better but I'm still not really proud of it...I did what I could.  
> Hope you like it anyway?  
> Thanks for reading xx


	11. Chapter 11

Thomas wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into. As he paced back and forth along the corner lining the busy high street, he wondered if he'd felt his phone vibrate or whether he'd been imagining it. 

 

Turns out he had been imagining it. But Newt should have called by now, right? It had been half an hour since he'd stormed out, enough time for Newt to at least drop him a text. But there was nothing. Not a thing. 

It was too cold to be waiting out in the middle of the street, despite Thomas's preparedness for the weather. He swore it would snow one of these days, he even had a bet with Teresa that it would snow before thanksgiving - they had a twenty riding on it.

"I'm not a shuck taxi service, you know." Was the voice he heard as a car window rolled down next to him. Thomas turned to look, still anxious, though he sighed in relief as he saw Minho climbing out of the car he recognised as his own. "I'm missing a math test for this."

Thomas only had the will in him to mumble. "You're welcome."

Minho rolled his eyes and handed him his car keys, prompting him to head to the driver seat door. He climbed in and buckled himself up, but Minho, who'd done the same on the passenger side, gave him an odd look which stopped him before he stuck the keys in the ignition.

"No Newt?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I thought you kids were taking the day off to bone?"

Thomas glared at him, not in the mood for his lack of verbal filter. He was still brimming with irritation from his argument with Newt's mum, and he was nervous that Newt was going to be mad at him, and Minho adding to that would definitely end up in a broken nose for someone.

When Thomas didn't reply, Minho decided to fill in the gaps. "Oh, you probably did enough of that last night, huh?"

Thomas still didn't feel the need to answer, so Minho continued, smirking. "Yeah, that's right. Don't think I didn't notice when you weren't in your bed this morning."

"We didn't do anything, Min." The brunet said reluctantly. "Today or last night. Yesterday, I went to talk to him and we ended up cuddling and today all we've done is get coffee."

"You don't like coffee." Minho was quick to point out.

"I got a milkshake. He had tea."

"Sounds like a lie to me." He decided. Thomas left a long pause before he shoved the keys into the ignition and started the car, too annoyed to respond. He backed out of the awkward parking space Minho had left them in and started along the road, expelling some of his irritation by gripping the steering wheel.

It didn't take long for Minho to notice his white knuckles, his silence, and the fact that he hadn't turned on the radio.

"What's up?" He asked, surprisingly concerned.

Thomas let out a long breath, making a few decisions as he did. "I just pissed his mother off."

"Ooh, bad move." Minho groaned, clearly not taking the answer seriously.

"Minho, it was serious. Like Newt's going to hate me for it serious." Thomas glanced at him just in time to see his face fall.

"Wow, what did you do?" He asked, more curious than concerned. Thomas stared at the road as he answered, anger filling his chest as he remembered the situation.

"She's just so mean, you know?" He didn't want this to turn into a ramble but Minho was openly waiting for him to continue and it was hard not to get riled up again. "She's got this great son that's so sweet and smart and adorable and all she does is treat him like she gets to decide everything for him. And if he was hurting someone, I'd understand, but he's not doing anything harmful to anyone and she still can't accept it. And I was just trying to tell her that but now Newt's probably angry at me."

"Accept what?" Minho was clearly aiming to seize the opportunity to get answers while Thomas was absently word-vomiting, but the brunet was quick to figure out what he was doing.

"None of your business." He muttered, leaning an elbow on the car's side to hold his head in his fist.

"Why can't you just tell me what's going on with him?" Minho asked, huffing. "C'mon, you know I'm not the kind of guy that would judge him for whatever it is."

That was true. Minho was strangely open-minded, despite his crude tongue. He just accepted what he was given and left it at that.

"It's not my business to share, Min." Thomas sighed, turning a corner on the road, ensuring to take the route that wouldn't force him to pass the dress shop, just in case.

"But you're dating," Minho argued. "What's mine is yours, all that stuff. We used to tell each other everything, Thomas. Now I didn't even get a decent explanation for why you needed me to pick you up from outside a dodgy-looking club that's probably closed at this time of day anyway."

"I get that, but it's still none of your business." Thomas decided, shrugging off his comments in protest. He felt bad having to not say anything, not to mention the fact that all he wanted to do right now was to rant to someone about everything that was going on, but he knew he also didn't want to add to the probably slow growing pile of things Newt could decide to hate him for. 

***

Thomas climbed out of his car and swung his backpack over his shoulder with a long breath out - he really couldn't deal with school today. And he couldn't deal with Newt being mad at him for arguing with his mother.

He'd had some thinking time last night, and he realised he may have been wrong. Not opinion-wise; in this situation, he knew he was right. But morally, it probably wasn't a great idea to spring up an argument without thinking of Newt first. It just wasn't fair.

He hadn't been trying to start an argument, though. His intention really was just to have a casual discussion. But that woman was impossibly ignorant and closed-minded and-

Newt's mother. She was also Newt's mother. Thomas had to keep reminding himself that he still had to pretend to like her because his boyfriend was her son. So technically they were stuck with each other. 

Thomas looked around, sighing as he scanned what he could see of the school grounds and did a mental search for Newt. He came up short and chewed the inside of his cheek - what if Newt was mad at him? What if he was avoiding him? What if his mother had banned him from seeing Thomas again? What if- 

He was de-hypnotised when his pocket vibrated and he stuck his hand in to pull out his phone. 

**Incoming call from Your Official Boyfriend (bc it's official now)**

His eyebrows furrowed as he answered and held the device to his ear. "Newt?"

"Tommy! Where are you?" Was the not-furious voice that came from the other line.

"I- I'm outside the school, in the parking lot, why?" Thomas answered nervously. He hadn't planned for this strange eventuality. He'd been writing the script for an argument all morning, but if Newt was happy, or had brushed off everything that happened yesterday, what was he supposed to do?

"Never mind, I can see you," Newt replied, then a beep signified he'd hung up. Thomas's eyebrows were still furrowed as he looked around, but he couldn't see anything.

And then a hand twisted around his wrist and he was forcefully spun around, lips latched onto his in seconds. He panicked, confused until he realised it was Newt, at which point he smiled and wrapped his arms around him. The blond's arms slipped around his neck as he smiled into the kiss.

"Morning." He pulled back to mumble before they were kissing again. Thomas was still confused, but he wasn't about to push Newt away.

"Why are you so chirpy?" He asked between kisses - that was probably a safe way to go about asking 'why aren't you yelling at me?'.

Newt shrugged and pulled his lips back completely. "Because you, personally, are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Thomas couldn't help smiling, admiring the compliment, but he was still confused. "Is this about what happened yesterday or did I accidentally propose to you in my sleep?"

Newt's smile had dropped slightly at some point in that sentence, then he sighed. "Yesterday was really bloody stupid of you."

There was the prompt for an argument Thomas was expecting. But he didn't want to argue, not when Newt was miraculously in some sort of good mood. He didn't want to argue anyway. The blond continued, absently snaking patterns on the back of Thomas's neck. "You yelled at my mum about something I've been trying to talk to her about for years, you stormed out without even considering the fact that everything that everyone had been saying would get to me, which it did, then you didn't even bother to call me."

"Did I upset you?" That was what Thomas had caught mostly. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, Tommy, you were defending me," Newt replied, his boyfriend was glad to see him slightly smiley as he messed with the short strands of hair at the top of Thomas's neck. "And I love that you did that, even though it was stupid and now my parents both hate you and I'm probably banned from ever seeing you outside of school. But I didn't want you two arguing. You're my boyfriend, and as much as I sometimes want to violently murder my mother, she's still my mum. And she said stuff that I really hated hearing and I thought maybe you'd pick up on that and actually comfort me instead of just walking out and leaving me to deal with it on my own."

"I know." Thomas sighed, guilt making a knot in his stomach. "I'm sorry."

Newt was trying not to smile, that was obvious. "It's okay. It really, really is because my mum's actually thinking about some of the things you said."

Thomas felt his face light up. "She's being nice to you?"

"Nope, not at all," Newt replied with a small chuckle. "But last night she sat me down and decided to finally talk to me about the health risks that come with using bandages as a binder."

Thomas was smiling already, some of the guilt dissolving. "Really? What did she say?"

"She told me that it really wasn't a good thing to do and I should stop doing it." Newt was still smiling, and Thomas could tell there was more coming. "So, I told her about other things I could use instead that were less risky, and she reluctantly decided that if I was going to make her angry and uncomfortable, I should be safe doing it."

Thomas prompted him with his eyes to go on. "So, she measured me up, and my binder should arrive in a few days."

He was beaming, and Thomas knew this was something he'd wanted for a while, so he couldn't help the smile that grew on his face. "Really?"

Newt only had to nod before Thomas pulled him into a hug and squeezed him tight; he felt good about this. This was good. A good new thing. And in a way, it was his fault it was happening.

"I'm so happy for you." He smiled as he pulled back and kissed Newt's cheek. The blond grinned at him, he was clearly bursting at the seams trying not to squeal.

"We're going to be late for class." He said after a second, still smiling. He grabbed Thomas's hand and started walking, still smiling. The brunet followed him silently, just admiring his good moodiness.

"I'll tell you something else," Newt pulled him to his side instead of just dragging him along. "I'm here, in school, and I've passed Gally and his crew more than three times this morning without any of them verbally abusing me."

"None of them?" Thomas inquired, grinning. "Wow."

"I know, right?" Newt smiled back at him. "And you and I are the new 'it' couple of the school, by the way. Everyone keeps coming up to me and telling me how cute we are together and how jealous they are of me, and they should be because you are bloody great."

"Flattered," Thomas commented as they made their way up the steps into the school building. He noticed eyes immediately turning to look at them, and even though they were hostile and hateful just two days ago, they all seemed excited and happy, but Thomas was too distracted to mentally comment on.

"I've got a study buddy, now too." Newt's confidence had dipped now that there were eyes analysing him, but it always did when they were around a lot of other people. His hand was still clutched to Thomas's, though, and his smile was still there faintly, so the brunet couldn't mind too much. "Brenda invited me 'round to her place to do some maths."

"That sounds fun," Thomas noted as he smiled at a couple of girls staring at the two of them like they were a basket of puppies

"Uh, Tommy, it's maths, it's not going to be fun, it's going to be torture." Newt retorted, smirking ever-so-slightly. Thomas hummed in agreement, admittedly not really listening. He was a little busy enjoying this moment, basking in the glory of his rejuvenated social status. Just two days ago he felt like that weird kid no one liked. But now, he felt back to his old self.

Everything was going good, for both of them.

"What's our first lesson?" Newt asked as he stopped in the middle of the corridor, next to two routes they could take.

"Uh, P.E."

"Oh." Newt smiled again. "I'll go to the library then. Have fun."

Thomas gave him a kiss as a farewell and made his way to the gym locker room.

He could find the place blindfolded, he visited it that much. As the second best runner on the track team (just under Minho), he spent a lot of time there. Not that he minded, it was always a good place to socialise and sometimes just hang out. Because everyone had the same interests, everyone had respect for each other.

"Ah! It's the gay one!"

"Everybody cover up! Thomas's here!"

"Like what you see, Tommy?"

"Hey, Tommy, where's your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, why does he never come to gym class?"

"Best guess is he's getting high under the bleachers."

"Ooh, is that your special place to make-out, Thomas?"

Like he said, respect.

Thomas was in too much of a good mood to care about their stupid comments, he just giggled along with them and didn't reply.

He made his way to the corner of the room, where Minho was sitting on his phone, smiling at the device.

"And who would you be talking to?" Thomas asked suspiciously, grinning. Minho looked up and clicked his phone off, his face pink.

"No one, just Teresa." He said as he stood up and began rooting through his bag of gym clothes. "She came over last night and we were supposed to be studying but she actually kissed me and we ended up making out on my couch."

Another great thing. Wow, life was just coming up Newt & Tommy these days.

"So, you're officially dating now?" The brunet asked, letting out a breath of relief because _did it really have to take this long?_

Minho shrugged and tried not to smile. "All I know is, she messed up my hair pretty good, and I didn't mind."

"Wow." Thomas chuckled. "You must be madly in love with her."

Minho laughed, still blushing. "Guess so."

Thomas smiled at him and swung his backpack off of his shoulder to open it up and find his gym clothes.

"What are you smiling about, anyway?" Minho asked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Thomas grinned to himself. "Nothing, man. It's just, everything is great for Newt right now. Almost too great. Gally hasn't picked on him at all today, he's not mad at me, he's getting along with Brenda, his mother is actually listening to what I said yesterday, he's getting a binder. I'm just so happy for him."

"A binder?" Minho questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Like a school binder? For files?"

"What?" Thomas internally groaned, he should've been thinking. "Yeah, yeah. A school binder."

Crap. Lying to Minho was getting hard. All Thomas wanted was someone he could talk to about this stuff, anyone. Minho had been able to talk about his time with Teresa without having to even think about holding his tongue, it sucked that Thomas couldn't do that. When he was dating Sonya, he used to blindly tell Minho every tiny, disgusting, intimate detail of their relationship without a second thought, it was exhausting not being able to do that. Why couldn't he just randomly state 'oh, yesterday was a nightmare, Newt's mum made us go dress shopping and Newt hated everything she made him try' and have it be completely acceptable for Minho to hear? He understood that it was Newt's business and Newt's problems and Newt's choice whether he wanted people to know or not, but it was tiring. Not that he was going to say anything, that wasn't fair.

Minho gave him a suspicious look but eventually brushed it off. Thomas exhaled deeply - at least everything was peachy for Newt. That put his smile back on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...hi. It's been, what, two days? Ah, it feels like longer.  
> I was up 'til 5am writing this last night but I didn't want to post it until I'd proof-read it and gone through it all because I tend to lose track of my writing late at night, but I'm happy with it, so here ya go.  
> Hope you like it, thanks for reading xx


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